


You Found Me

by OfEndlessWonder



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfEndlessWonder/pseuds/OfEndlessWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years after leaving Rosewood behind her, Emily Fields is working as an intern at a hospital when a familiar face comes in - a face she never thought she'd ever see again. Alison DiLaurentis, her first love and the one woman Emily's never quite been able to forget, becomes her patient (but she's not a DiLaurentis any more).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This started as what was supposed to be a short prompt from tumblr but turned into something significantly longer. It's only going to be a short fic, around 5 chapters, and as most of it is already written I'm going to try and post an update every three days or so.
> 
> It's set seven years after the finale aired, and Alison and Emily have had very little contact in that time, and the whole thing will be from Emily's POV. I am in no way a medical professional and most of my medical knowledge comes from watching TV shows, so while I've done research for parts of this as best I can, I very much doubt that it'll all be perfect, but I've tried my best!
> 
> A couple of warnings apply for this fic: there will be some focus on medical procedures but I don't think anything is too graphic and it's pretty minimal, and there are brief mentions of suicide from chapter two onwards.
> 
> Think that's all I need to say, I hope you enjoy the story!

 

"Fields!" Emily groans when she hears her name yelled from across the ER – she's about to enter into the nineteenth hour of her shift (she was  _supposed_ to go home three hours ago, but the surgery she'd been assisting on had gotten a little complicated and ended up taking six hours instead of three), had only come down her to check in with her resident before heading home, but as she glances up and sees the head of cardiac surgery waving her over she sighs before turning and walking over to her. "Can you take the woman in bed two for me?"

She's about to say no, that someone else can do it – she sees one of her fellow interns walk through the ER doors and is tempted to suggest them, instead, but… ever since the first time she'd seen a chest open on the operating table she'd been set on specialising in cardiac surgery and a little sucking up never hurt anyone.

"Sure." Her inability to say no to her superiors is going to kill her, one day. She spends too many hours in this damn hospital, and she'd resent it if she didn't love it so much. But she does, she  _loves_ her job and seven years ago when she'd been applying to colleges with no idea what she wanted to do, she never would've dreamed she'd end up here.

She's only a month away from finishing her internship, and she's already secured a place in the residency programme at the same hospital. It had been an adjustment, getting used to the Minnesota winters when she'd gotten her medical degree in California, but when her acceptance letter from Mayo Clinic had come in the mail, Emily knew there was no turning it down.

And she does like it here, even though it's far away from her family (her Mom and Dad are still down in Texas, and she hasn't seen them for nearly six months now and it's  _hard_  but it'll be worth it, in the end, she keeps telling herself that), and both the friends she'd made at college  _and_ her friends from Rosewood.

Aria and Hanna are both in New York, one as a journalist and the other as a fashion designer, and Spencer's steadily climbing the political circuit and is based in Washington D.C. It's been months since she'd seen any of them face-to-face, and sometimes they go weeks without speaking but each time they get back into contact it's easy to fall back into the old routine of it all, and Emily's glad that they still talk, even after all these years.

She pauses outside the curtain that's shielding bed two from view in order to smother a yawn (if there's one thing that freaks patients out immediately, it's their doctor yawning as they walk into a room), before yanking the curtain aside and stepping within, pulling it shut behind her.

Her mouth opens to give her name and ask what's wrong, but she's too stunned to do anything other than stand and stare when her eyes connect with sea blue, eyes that she hasn't seen since the day she'd left Rosewood seven years ago and hadn't once looked back.

" _Alison_?!" If there was ever a person Emily Fields didn't expect to see ever again, Alison would be it. She was the only one, out of the five of them, who chose to stay in town after they'd all left for college, wanting to be close to CeCe (Emily couldn't for the life of her understand  _why_ , after everything, but it was Alison's life, and she could do whatever she wanted), and it had gotten too difficult for her, after a while, to keep in contact with the blonde.

There was too much still between them, too much history and things left unsaid, and maybe some residual feelings, too, and Emily didn't know how to get over her if they were still talking every week. So eventually she'd stopped picking up the phone, her answers to texts becoming increasingly short, and it hadn't taken long for Alison to stop calling.

"Em-Emily," Alison breathes, like she can barely believe it, and really, Emily can't, either. She's half-convinced that she's fallen asleep in an on-call room somewhere and this is all just… some sort of awful, awful dream.

She can't stop  _staring_ , because Alison looks amazing. Her hair is longer, lighter, curling around her shoulders, her eyes still that same brilliant shade of blue, and when her lips curve into a smile it steals the breath from Emily's lungs.

But then there's the sound of someone clearing their throat, and Emily realises that one of Alison's hands is clutched tightly within that of another, and she lifts her eyes to meet those of the person standing beside Alison's bed, taking in the handsome features, sharp cheekbones, and dark hair – and then she notices the diamond ring, sparkling on Alison's left hand, a wedding ring sitting beside it, and feels like she's going to throw up.

"Honey," Alison turns to the guy, smile still playing around the edges of her lips, "this is Emily. We went to school together. Emily, this is David, my, um, husband."

"I didn't know you got married." She's amazed that she manages to make a sound, considering her throat feels like it's all closed up and she feels like there isn't any air in this room and Christ, she is  _way_ too tired for  _this_.

"We didn't exactly keep in contact," Alison murmurs back, a little sadly, and Emily winces, because that had been entirely her fault.

"What, uh, what are you in here for, anyway?"

"Oh, we were skiing." That would explain the clothes that they're both wearing – which Emily probably would've noticed had she not been so taken aback. "And I had a pretty bad fall and my ankle…" She trails off, biting at her bottom lip as she glances down, and Emily nods, taking a step forward.

It's pretty easy to see which is the injured leg – the blonde's left ankle is about three times the size of her left, and Emily tugs her shoe and sock of as gently as she can manage, but she still has to murmur an apology when Alison hisses in pain.

"I'm sorry," Alison's husband speaks up for the first time, frowning at Emily as she glances at Alison's leg. "But are you qualified to do this? How old are you? Do you even - "

"Babe," Alison cuts him off, throwing Emily a look of apology. "Just let her do her job."

"She's only an intern," he argues back, and Emily takes advantage of the couple's distraction to examine Alison's ankle more closely, her fingers pressing gingerly around the edges of the joint. "I want to make sure you're well looked after."

"I assure you, Mr…?" She trails off, her voice cool – she's had to deal with her fair share of difficult patients over the course of her internship, after all – as she raises her head to look him in the eye.

"Rollins," Alison offers, and Emily tries not to wince as she imagines Alison taking his last name – Alison  _Rollins_ definitely doesn't have quite the same ring to it as DiLaurentis does. Not that she can blame Alison for wanting to change her name, with how it must haunt her, after everything that had happened.

"I assure you, Mr Rollins," Emily continues, wondering if her stare is as icy as her voice, "that your wife is in good hands. I might only be an  _intern_ ," she injects the word with as much scorn as he'd used, smiling sweetly, "but I'm top of my class. Just like I was every year in medical school. Now, I can stand here arguing with you over my credentials, go and get another doctor – which, considering we're slammed right now thanks to all the snowfall we've had lately, is very unlikely to happen anytime soon –  _or_  you can let me do my job."

He doesn't say anything, though his jaw clenches and Emily knows she's hit a nerve – not that she really cares all that much. She's been awake for over twenty-one hours and she's been here for nineteen and a half, and she is  _so_ not in the mood to deal with some asshole questioning her capabilities.

(The same asshole that's married to the first girl that Emily had ever loved, and yep, she's not going to be getting used to  _that_ anytime soon).

"I'm going to page the orthopaedic surgeon that's on duty," Emily says when she's finished her initial examination, ripping off the gloves she'd donned before entering the room and dropping them into the trash can behind the bed, "because it's looking like you've got a pretty nasty break. You're going to need x-rays and I hope you don't have any plans for the next couple of days because it's also probable that you're going to need surgery so you're going to be in here for a while."

"How long's a while?" Emily has to force her teeth not to grind at the sound of Rollins' voice and she knows she's being a little ridiculous – she doesn't know the guy, and she's sure Alison wouldn't marry an asshole on  _purpose_ , but so far, she's really not impressed.

"I don't know," she replies with a shrug. "It depends how extensive the damage is, but it, uh, doesn't look too good." She throws Alison a sympathetic look. "Have you been given any painkillers?" The blonde shakes her head, and Emily's actually a little impressed, because she must be in some  _serious_ pain but she's not letting any of it show. "I'll go and get you some – I'll be right back."

She slips from the room, grabbing her pager as she goes and sending a page up to orthopaedics, before wandering over to her resident to sign out the pain meds Alison needs. When she returns to the room a few moments later, Alison is alone, staring up at the ceiling and biting hard at her bottom lip.

"Hey," Emily murmurs when she blonde glances her way. "Where's Mr Nice Guy?"

"He's not that bad," Alison replies with a laugh, and Emily shakes her head as she hands the blonde some pills and a plastic cup filled with water. "He went to medical school, so he - "

"Thinks he's a know-it-all?" Emily interjects, because she's seen that with doctors and surgeons who brought family members to the hospital, sometimes. "That guy's really a doctor?"

"Psychiatrist." Emily makes a face, and Alison laughs again. "Not as impressive as you, clearly," she murmurs conspiratorially, and Emily grins. "What is it you want to do?"

"Cardiothoracic surgery, hopefully." Alison's eyes widen, impressed, and Emily shrugs, nonchalant. "I'm a long way off that, though. And I don't know if I've got what it takes, but…"

"Oh, she's got what it takes." A new voice joins the fray, and Emily freezes at the sound of it, turning to see a tall brunette stepping into the room. "She's just modest."

"What are you doing here?" Emily asks, ignoring the way the woman's eyes linger as she takes Emily in – she turns back to see Alison eyeing them curiously and nearly groans.

"You paged orthopaedics," comes the reply. "And Ramirez is busy, so you got me, instead." She turns her gaze to Alison, soft smile on her face. "I'm only a resident, but I'm in my final year and more than qualified to take a look over some x-rays," she assures the blonde. "I'm Dr. Martinez." She turns to Emily, then, an easy familiarity to her gaze. "You'll take her up and page me when you get the screens back? There should be a room free for her when you're done, too."

"Okay."

"Wait," Martinez (Alana, as Emily has come to know her), pauses before disappearing back into the ER, eyeing Emily critically. "How many hours have you been working?"

"Have you been checking up on me?"

"No," she replies with a roll of her eyes. "But I saw you here this morning before I went home and that was hours ago."

"I'm fine," Emily shrugs, because she's seen Alison for the first time in seven years and she can't just go  _home_. "It's just an x-ray, it's not like I'm going into surgery."

"Alright, suit yourself," Alana murmurs, before throwing Alison one last smile. "I'll see you soon."

"What was  _that_ about?" Alison asks as soon as she's gone, and Emily pretends to be oblivious as she gives Alison a puzzled look. "Oh, come  _on_. I saw the way she looked at you. She your girlfriend?"

"Uh, no." Emily hasn't had a girlfriend since – well, honestly, she can barely even remember. She's so busy that she doesn't have time for a relationship – hell, she barely has time for  _friendships_  – or even for dating, and hasn't for a long time. "Not in the traditional sense of the word, anyway," she mutters, more for her own ears than Alison, but the blonde hears anyway and smirks.

"Friends with benefits?" She asks, waggling her eyebrows and Emily shakes her head and tries not to smile at the ridiculous look on Alison's face. "Oh, come on, girl in pain over here. Distract me."

"Fine," she says, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I guess that'd be the best way to describe us. But then she got too attached so I… I ended it." She'd regretting it, too, because Alana was freaking amazing in bed – but Emily didn't have feelings for her, knew it would be unfair to keep seeing her when she knew Alana felt so much more. "How long have you been married?"

"Three years," Alison replies with a soft smile, and Emily feels like she's been winded, her heart aching, because that is a  _long_ time for them to have been together, and she'd had no  _idea_. "This vacation was actually for our anniversary."

"I'm guessing it didn't go the way you planned."

"I wasn't planning on spending it cooped up in a hospital bed, no," Alison replies with a laugh. "But…" she trials off, her eyes meeting Emily's and a shy smile curving at her lips. "But I'm glad it means I get to see you again."

"Yeah," Emily says softly, smiling back. "Me too." Alison's husband returns, then, and Emily feels the smile slip off her face. "Ready to head up to x-ray? I'll just go grab you a wheelchair." When she returns with it, Rollins helps her into the chair, but when he tries to push Emily's hands away from the handles, she narrows her eyes. "I can handle it."

"You don't look like - "

"I can  _handle_ it," she snaps back, because she's definitely had enough of him for today. "And in any case, you need to go wait in the waiting room. Family aren't allowed upstairs."

"I'm a doctor - "

"Psychiatrists don't count," she says sweetly, her hands tightening around the handles of Alison's wheelchair as she starts to walk away. "I'll come and find you when we're done."

"He's just worried about me," Alison murmurs when they're out of earshot, as Emily's pressing the button for the elevator. "He's not usually so…"

"Obnoxious?" Emily provides helpfully. "Irritating? All-round asshole?" Alison's lips press into a thin line as she tries to will herself not to smile. "Sorry, I'm a little irritable myself. I've been up a while."

"How long's a while?"

"Trust me," she says as she wheels Alison into the elevator and presses the button for the third floor, "you don't want to know."

"I'm not… you're not staying longer than you need to because of me, are you?" Emily considers lying, but thinks it probably wouldn't be terribly convincing, so she settles for silence instead. "Emily," Alison continues, appalled. "You don't have to do that."

"It's fine," she shrugs, because she's already awake and was already  _here_ , so. It's not like she came in especially, or anything. "Honestly. It's nice to see a familiar face."

"I'm guessing you don't get much time off to go back home."

"I don't remember the last time I had a day off," she sighs as she wheels Alison out of the elevator when they reach the right floor – there's a queue for x-rays, two people ahead of them, so Emily leans against the wall and tries not to fall asleep. "Not one where I didn't spend the entire day catching up on sleep, anyway."

"I don't know how you do it," Alison says, shaking her head in awe. "I could never do something like this."

"I never thought I'd be able to, either." She hadn't for a long time – she'd worked her ass off in med school but actually working in a hospital was a different matter entirely. She remembers losing her first patient, on just her fifth day at this hospital, remembered standing beside her resident as she'd told a wife and her kids that their husband and father wouldn't be coming home, and when she'd gotten home she'd laid awake for a long time, wondering if there had been anything she could've done to save him, and wondering if she was really cut out for this job, after all.

One year on and losing patients isn't any easier, but it's not something she's ever let affect how she treats the ones still living.

"What  _do_ you do, anyway?" She asks, then, realising that she's asked very little about Alison besides about her husband.

"Oh, I teach. At the high school – English."

"Now there's a job  _I_ could never do." The thought of being around snotty teenagers all day – god, no. She wouldn't survive it.

"A little easier than yours."

"I don't know," Emily drawls back, smile playing at the edges of her lips. "Shaping the young minds of the future – that's a pretty important job. And not easy."

"I don't bring people back from the brink of death," Alison points out, and Emily chuckles.

"Yeah, and neither do  _I._ "

"You will when you're a hotshot cardiothoracic surgeon, though."

"That is a  _long_ way off, yet." She thinks about how much longer it'll be before she's qualified and it kind of makes her want to just… stop. Drop everything and stop, because she's not going to have a life for at least the next five years.

Maybe she should become a psychiatrist, instead.

She smirks at the thought, and then thinks that she's probably being a little unfair. But she just can't see what Alison  _sees_ in him, because as far as first impressions go… he hasn't made a great one. She wonders when Alison met him, and how. Wonders what would have happened if Emily hadn't been so determined to avoid her and –

Okay, no. She should stop now, because she's veering into dangerous territory. Dangerous 'maybe those feelings for Alison never went away after all' kind of territory. But she brushes the thoughts away, tells herself that it's just because she's so shocked to see Alison again, after so long, pushes them deep down where she can revisit them later, when the blonde's eyes aren't on her.

"How are your parents?"

"I mean, I haven't seen them in a while," Emily shrugs, "but they're good. Stifling down in the Texas heat while I'm freezing my ass off up here."

"This is a good hospital, though."

"The only reason I left California." She still dreams about it, sometimes – of white-washed beaches, the roar of the sea, the feeling of saltwater drying on her skin beneath the fierce glare of the sun.

"Regret it?"

"Never."

"Regret leaving Rosewood?"

"I… no, not really." It's not something she thinks about much, these days. She hasn't been there for so long that it's almost easy to forget. "The only thing I'd miss are the people, and I kept in touch with most of them, so."

"Just not me." There's that note of sadness in her voice once again, and Emily feels guilt wash over her, not for the first time.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice quiet, and she finds that she can't quite look Alison in the eye. "It was… it was hard for me, after everything. I just… wanted to forget."

"About me?"

"About the way I felt about you," she answers honestly, watches the surprise ripple across Alison's face.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Emily doesn't really know what to say, to that, and she's glad when they're called forward, a nurse emerging to take Alison to be x-rayed, and Emily leans back against the wall and waits for the pictures to come back.

She's pretty much fallen asleep by the time that Alison comes back, her eyes closed as she leans her weight back against the wall, and it's only the sound of the blonde clearing her throat that have her opening them.

"Christ, sorry," she says, sheepish as she takes the envelope the nurse hands her, wheeling Alison back over to the elevator and smothering another yawn while they wait for it to arrive.

"I'm getting tired just  _looking_ at you, Em, please go and get some rest soon."

"I will," she promises as she presses the button for the first floor, to where the free room she'd been instructed to put Alison in waits. "As soon as you're all settled in and Alana's seen your x-rays."

"Alana?" Alison teases, and Emily rolls her eyes.

"Dr. Martinez," she corrects, wheeling the blonde down the hall and helping her into the bed in the room at the very end of it. "Wait here, I'll go get your husband."

"Em, wait." Alison catches her wrist before she can leave, and her touch has Emily repressing a shudder. "Why didn't you tell me how you felt all those years ago?"

"I… I was too much of a coward, I guess." She shrugs, uncomfortable at the topic and at the weight of Alison's gaze on her, her fingers still wrapped around her wrist. "Couldn't bear the thought of you telling me to get lost."

"You thought I would?"

"I thought you'd be an idiot if you forgave me for what I did," she replies honestly, because she'd barely forgiven  _herself_ for it.

"I did forgive you," Alison murmurs softly. "And I wouldn't have told you to get lost." Emily stares at her for a long moment, blinking slowly as she tries to absorb  _that_ little piece of information, her throat feeling tight. "Far from it."

"It's pointless talking about the past though, right?" Emily manages to say, her voice more than a little strained. "I mean, you're married."

"Right." Unless she's mistaken, Alison's voice is a little wistful, and Emily definitely doesn't know how to deal with any of this and yeah, in hindsight she  _definitely_ should've volunteered someone else to take bed two earlier on.

It would've saved her a  _lot_ of mixed emotions.

"Anyway, I'm, uh, going to go get him. And the doctor." She shakes off Alison's hand and doesn't look back as she strides from the room, shaking her head to clear it as she makes her way back down to the waiting room, paging Alana as she walks.

She feels shaken, both by seeing Alison and also by her pretty much saying that she would've said yes, if Emily had asked her out all that time ago. Emily's always told herself that was an idiot, for not trying and for letting Alison go, but she'd always managed to make herself feel better with the thought that Alison would have never wanted her, anyway.

But now? To be told that that wouldn't have been the case? God, she curses herself because Alison DiLaurentis would've been her everything, everything she'd ever wanted, and she's an idiot for letting the blonde slip through her fingers.

She's sure that the guy sitting in the waiting room typing on his phone definitely doesn't deserve to be with Alison, but whatever – it's not any of her business, anyway. Because Alison is only here temporarily, once her ankle is healed enough for her to go home she'll return to Rosewood with her husband and Emily will hopefully feel a little less like her whole life is spiralling out of control.

"Dr Rollins?" Emily calls when she's close enough for him to hear. "She's in a room, now, if you want me to take you to her." His head lifts and he nods, sliding his phone in his pocket as he rises to his feet.

"I'm sorry about the way I acted before," he says as they walk, and Emily would really prefer he keep his mouth shut but she bites her tongue. "I can't imagine the impression I must've made."

"Wasn't a great one," she tells him, and he winces. "But I get it, you were worried about her. Don't worry about it."

"Were you two close, when you were in high school?" Emily feels herself tense at the question, because she doesn't even know how to answer that, and how has she ended her day having a casual conversation about her relationship with her first love with said first love's  _husband_?

"Uh, pretty close, yeah." She doesn't think that adding 'I was in love with her for most of our friendship' will go down too well.

"She doesn't really talk about the past," he admits quietly as they step inside the elevator, and Emily clicks the button several times as if that might make it move a little faster, because she really, really doesn't want to talk to this guy for a second longer than she was to.

"She has a pretty good reason to." Emily certainly doesn't talk about it, not to anyone. As far as she's concerned, her entire high school experience was just… some awful, awful dream that she tries not to think about too much.

"True." Emily breathes a sigh of relief when the doors open on Alison's floor, walking down the hall so fast that Rollins has to hurry to catch up, effectively cutting off any further conversation. When they reach the blonde's room Alana is already inside with her superior, the two of them examining the x-ray closely – Emily looks towards it, to, hastily averting her eyes when she sees Rollins leaning down to press a kiss to Alison's lips, because she definitely doesn't need  _that_ image in her brain, and draws in a shocked breath when she sees how bad the damage is.

"Pretty wicked, huh?" Alana murmurs to her, voice too quiet for Alison to hear, and Emily can only nod.

"Mrs Rollins." Alana's superior, Dr Ramirez, turns towards the blonde with a serious look on his face. "I'm afraid the damage to your leg is a bit more severe than we anticipated."

"How severe?" Rollins reaches his hand for Alison's, taking it between both of his own, and Emily finds her eyes draw to the movement, remembering the feeling of Alison's fingertips pressed to her skin.

"I suspect it's going to take at least two surgeries to attempt to repair the bone. It's broken in two places - " He pauses to indicate the breakages on the x-ray film. "It'll be a difficult surgery, but I'm confident that I'll be able to restore it to what it once was, and you'll be able to make a full recovery."

"And how long will that take?" Alison is yet to say a word, her face growing paler and paler, and Emily is a little concerned that she's going to be sick.

"I can schedule the first surgery for tomorrow, but there will have to be a wait of around seven days before I can do the second one, and then after that we'll have to see how the recovery goes before we can think about discharging you."

"Is there any way she can be transferred to somewhere back in Pennsylvania?"

"That could probably be arranged," Ramirez says slowly, looking mildly offended. "But I can assure you both that you'd be better off staying here."

"Dr Ramirez is one of the best orthopaedic surgeons in the world," Alana interjects, practically gushing – Emily catches her eye and shakes her head in mock disgust, and Alana glares at her as soon as Ramirez's back is turned.

"I want to stay here," Alison speaks for the first time, her voice a little shaky.

"Babe, I have patients back at home that I - "

"I want to stay  _here_ ," Alison repeats, more firmly, and Rollins' jaw clenches before he shakes his head and nods.

"Okay."

"Excellent, then I will schedule your surgery for tomorrow," Ramirez says, nearly beaming – he turns to leave the room, Alana in tow, and then seems to catch sight of Emily for the first time and pauses, looking at her curiously. "Fields, correct?"

"Y-yes sir." Ramirez is practically a living legend in the hospital, and Emily's barely ever been in the same room as him before, let alone have him address her directly (she feels a little giddy at the fact he knows her name, and maybe she shouldn't have made fun of Alana for sucking up so much, earlier).

"You've spent the most time with Mrs Rollins – would you like to be my intern for the duration of her case? You can scrub in on both surgeries."

"That… that would be incredible, sir, thank you." He beams at her before he leaves the room, calling over his shoulder as he goes.

"I expect you to be here for rounds at 5am, Dr Fields!" Emily glances down at the watch on her wrist, sees that it's already nearing midnight and groans – Alana throws her a sympathetic glance, squeezing Emily's shoulder before she leaves the room, trailing Ramirez like a shadow.

"Well, looks like I'm sleeping in an on-call room tonight," Emily murmurs, mostly to herself, but she can't even regret it, because she might  _hate_ spending the night in the hospital but getting to work with Ramirez for an extended period of time would be so, so worth it.

Of course, that also means that she's going to be spending an extended period of time with  _Alison_. And with Alison came her husband, and Emily isn't entirely sure how she really feels about any of that.

And she has no time to process it, either, because as soon as she leaves this room she's going to fall into a bed and she's positive that as soon as her head hits the pillow she'll be out of it – and then she'll wake up and have to face Alison again, first thing and Christ, she is so not prepared for any of this.

"I, uh, guess I'll see you tomorrow," she says to Alison behind another yawn. "The nurses will be around to check on you pretty often, and they can get you a bed if you'd rather stay in here." She offers that last part to Rollins, who nods his thanks. "Night."

"Night, Em," Alison calls to her as she's leaving, her voice soft, and Emily shakes her head as she walks into the hallway outside, certain that her dreams tonight are going to be haunted by a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed  _married_  beauty, and yeah, it's definitely going to be a  _long_  few weeks for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Emily wakes to her alarm blaring the next morning and reaches for it groggily, groaning as she stretches towards her phone, sliding her finger across the screen to silence the noise.

“Why do you still have the worst alarm tone in the history of the world?” The voice comes from the bed above her, and Emily blearily remembers Alana stumbling into the room in the early hours of the morning and asking if it was okay to crash there, too.

“Because it’s the only thing that can wake me up,” she grumbles in response, thinking that it should be illegal to have to set an alarm for four forty-five in the morning. She hadn’t slept well, spending most of the night tossing and turning, her mind filled with thoughts of Alison for the first time in as long as she can remember, and she feels like she’s barely even slept at all. “God, I need coffee.”

“Get me some, too,” comes the reply as Emily forces herself upright, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and tugging her scrubs back on, having slept in just her underwear.

“Bitch, get your own,” she replies as she’s yanking the top over her head, and she can practically _hear_ Alana’s pout.

“Come on, Em, I’ll put in a good word with Ramirez for you.”

“Ugh, fine.” Emily shoves herself to her feet and winces when she sways on the spot, her head pounding. “Don’t fall back asleep!” She calls as she leaves the room, and when she receives little more than a grunt in response she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, knowing what she’ll find when she returns to the room – Alana, fast asleep and probably snoring, and Emily will have to shake her awake and then they’re _both_ be almost late for rounds.

Again.

Emily should just leave her, really, but she’s just too good of a person. Well, that _and_ she knows Alana will kick her ass if she does.

She makes her way to the cafeteria, wishing she had enough time to go to the coffee cart down the street outside which is about a thousand times better than the watery crap the hospital offers, but she only has seven minutes before she needs to be Alison’s room so _that’s_ not happening.

She grabs two coffees and a croissant, stuffing the latter in her mouth as she makes her way back to the on-call room, rolling her eyes when she finds Alana snoring within – she throws a pillow at her head, smirking at the outraged look the brunette gets on her face when her eyes open.

“Get your lazy ass up,” she tells her, handing her the coffee before turning and leaving her to get dressed. She likes the hospital, early in the morning. It’s so much quieter than it is in the day – still buzzing, but more subdued, the windows at the end of the hallway showing that the sky outside is still dark, the sky overcast in a way that makes Emily wonder if it’s going to snow again.

Emily downs the final dregs of her coffee outside of Alison’s room, dropping the empty cup into the trash just as Dr Ramirez comes around the corner, Alana hurrying a couple of steps behind him. He opens the door to Alison’s room and nods Emily through, and she sees that the blonde’s already awake, soft smile lighting up her face when her eyes meet Emily’s.

“Dr Fields, do you want to get us started?”

“Alison Rollins, twenty five year old female,” Emily starts as she moves to grab the file that hangs on the end of Alison’s bed, reading through it as she continues to speak. “Has breaks to the tibia and fibula at the ankle joint, and today will be undergoing the first of two surgeries to realign the bones and pin them in place.”

“Dr Martinez, did you review the procedure last night?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you walk Dr Fields through it before we go into surgery?”

“Absolutely.”

“Excellent, then I’ll see you both at eleven am – Dr Fields, you’ll be able to prep Mrs Rollins for surgery?” Emily nods, and he smiles before wandering away, telling Alana to meet him in another of his patient’s room shortly.

“Come find me when you get a minute?” Alana asks as she’s leaving the room, and Emily nods again, not entirely sure when she’s going _to_ get a minute, but she’s used to being rushed off her feet by now and knows it won’t be too difficult.

“That was a _lot_ of big words you just used,” Alison murmurs when both of the other doctors are gone, her voice raspy from sleep.

“Well, I gotta impress the patient,” she replies, her eyes sparkling when she manages to make Alison smile. “You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Hurts too much.” Emily frowns, glancing back down at the chart and wondering if she can increase the dose of painkillers the blonde is on. “They can’t do anything else,” Alison adds, noticing Emily’s scrutiny. “It’s okay, though – it’ll be on the mend soon, right?”

“He really is the best,” she reassures Alison, and the blonde nods.

“I trust you.” Emily gets a warm feeling in her chest at that and quickly looks away from Alison’s searching gaze, only realising belatedly that the room is missing an occupant.

“Where’s your husband?”

“Oh, I sent him back to the hotel,” Alison answers with a shrug. “There’s no reason for us both to be sleeping on a shitty bed.” Emily frowns, because if it was _her_ wife that was in hospital, she wouldn’t leave her side, not for anything.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m okay. It… it’d be nice to talk a little, but I’m guessing you’re a little too busy for that.”

“Just a bit,” she murmurs apologetically, cursing when she glances down at her watch. “Speaking of, I have to go, I have to do rounds with my resident and if I’m late she’ll kick my ass. I’ll see you later, though.”

She rushes off before Alison can say goodbye, slipping through the door of the intern’s locker room about three seconds before her resident, Dr Evans, strides in after her.

“Cutting it close, Em,” one of her closest friends in the program, Dani Johnson, murmurs out of the corner of her mouth.

“I heard you’re getting to work with Ramirez on a case,” their other friend, Luke, cuts in, shaking his head wryly. “Who’d you have to kill to get that gig? And how can I join in?”

“Ah, ah, ah, that would be telling,” Emily grins back, rolling her eyes when he pouts at her, because he looks absolutely ridiculous.

Being a surgical intern is always pretty cut-throat, and Emily hadn’t ever really expected to make any friends here, but she’d been surprised when, on her first day, the two of them had plonked their trays down beside hers in the cafeteria and told her that there was safety in numbers, and they’d been inseparable ever since.

“Seriously, though,” Dani whispers as they follow Evans to the first of their patients’ rooms. “Reckon you can get him to take someone else on, too? Because the opportunity would be - ”

“Johnson,” Evans snaps as they all crowd around the first bed of many. “Seeing as you’re so eager to be talking at this very early hour, why don’t you tell the rest of the class all about Mr Jackson, here?” Dani groans at being called out but still steps forward, taking the file Evans hands to her and starting to read.

Evans can be pretty ruthless, but Emily had learned pretty early on that if you stayed on her good side and didn’t piss her off then life was a hell of a lot easier.

She finds it harder to concentrate than usual, that morning, and she knows that she can trace the source of her distraction back to a room on the first floor and hates that, even after so many years apart, it’s still so effortless for Alison to get under her skin.

She spends her morning back down in the ER. The other interns all hate how hectic and disorganized it is, but Emily thrives on it, loves the fact that she never knows what she’s going to be facing when she pulls back the curtain. It’s meant that she’s gotten to sit in on some pretty cool cases, much to her friends dismay – when she’d told them all they needed to do was to take a few more shifts down here to do the same, though, they’d made a face and quickly shaken their heads.

But whatever, Emily’s kind of glad about it, anyway, because it means they’re always looking for an intern down here, and she’s always happy to volunteer. She’s especially happy to volunteer today, knowing that she’ll be so busy that there will be very little space in her mind for Alison to occupy.

She’s sent for a break after three hours and wanders away to find Alana, grabbing some food on her way, relieved to find that she’s not with a patient and has enough time to go over Alison’s surgery with her. Orthopaedics has never been her favourite specialty, and she has to force herself to concentrate on Alana’s words as she gestures to a textbook and Alison’s x-ray, running through it step-by-step.

“Bored?” Alana teases her when she’s done, shutting the textbook firmly and sliding it back onto the shelf behind her.

“No,” Emily lies, and Alana grins.

“What’s the deal with you and this chick, anyway? And don’t say nothing,” she adds hastily, when she sees Emily’s mouth open. “Cause I saw the way you looked at her yesterday and there’s _some_ kind of history there.”

“We went to high school together.”

“Ah, old flame?”

“Something like that.” She sees no reason to lie – Alana’s been the closest Emily had come to a relationship in years, for those few months they’d been sleeping together, and the brunette’s probably the person she’s closest to in this town. She’s glad that they hadn’t lost that, when they’d ended things between them.

“Oh, come on, you can’t just leave it at that.”

“I can,” Emily replies coolly, “because my break is up. Thanks for the run-through.” She hops off her chair and makes her way out of the residents room for research (which she will shortly be allowed in my herself – well, providing she passes her exams, anyway), grinning when she hears Alana’s voice ring out behind her.

“I want details, Fields!”

“Go to hell, Martinez!” She heads straight down to Alison’s room to get her ready for surgery, trying not to let her good mood fall when she sees that the blonde is no longer alone.

“Feeling any better?” She asks Alison as she glances over the results of the bloodwork that one of the nurses had done that morning to check that everything’s normal.

“Not really.”

“At least you can get some rest when they put you to sleep,” Emily teases, and Alison manages a smile but it’s more a grimace. “What’s up?”

“I just… the nurse can in with a consent form and…”

“Went through the long list of terrifying things that can go wrong?” Emily supplies, understanding the blonde’s worry and stepping closer to her, reaching for her hand and squeezing gently. “Every surgery has risks, but the chance of them actually happening to you is low. Really, really low.”

“You’ll be there the whole time?” She asks in a small, scared voice, and Emily smiles reassuringly.

“I won’t leave your side,” she promises. “And they won’t be letting me do anything other than _maybe_ stitch you up afterwards, so you don’t have to worry about the intern messing anything up.”

“I trust you.”

“ _I_ don’t.” Alison smiles, and Emily drops her hand – she notices Rollins watching them curiously and clears her throat before turning away. “You’re not on any medication, are you? And not allergic to anything that you know of?”

“No.”

“Any history of problems with anaesthetic in your family?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Ready to go, then?” She watches Alison’s throat bob as she swallows, clearly nervous, before she nods, and Emily press her bed flat before starting to wheel it out of the room, Rollins walking at their side, holding Alison’s hand. “You can’t go further than this,” Emily murmurs apologetically as they reach the elevators that are only used to transport patients down to the operating theatres. “I’ll come find you as soon as she’s out of surgery.”

“Thank you.” He bends down to brush his lips against Alison’s, and Emily looks away, pressing the down button for the elevator a few more times, wheeling Alison inside when it arrives and not looking back at her husband once.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Emily murmurs when she glances at Alison’s face and sees the barely concealed panic in her eyes. “You’re gonna be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t want a tarnished record?” Alison tries to tease, but there’s a barely-hidden tremor in her voice.

“Don’t want to lose you when I only just got you back.” Alison’s lips quirk into a radiant smile that makes Emily think that she’s a goner for sure, because it makes her heart race a little in her chest and how is it possible, even after all this time, that Alison can make her knees weak with just a single look?

When the doors open she wheels Alison into the operating theatre and leaves her in the capable hands on the anaesthesiologist while she gets herself scrubbed in – she watches the panic ease of Alison’s face as she falls asleep, looking peaceful and younger, somehow, as young as the girl that Emily had left behind her all those years ago.

She’d wondered, as she was leaving town that day, driving across the country and away from the only place that had ever really felt like home, if one day she would regret her decision to leave. She never had, though, because it had given her this life and this job that she loved, but now as she looks at Alison asleep on the table she feels a pang in her chest and wonders if she’d made the right decision, after all.

Which is ridiculous, she knows. No matter how she’d felt about the blonde back then, she’s sure they wouldn’t have worked – they were too different, too changed by the things that had happened to them both, and Emily had always been leaving town and Alison had always been staying, and she thinks it probably would have ended in flames.

It’s the uncertainty, though, that kills her. The not knowing how Alison felt (although she’d practically admitted to her, yesterday, that there had still been something there back then), the not knowing if they would have ever been able to be happy together – and now she’ll never get the chance, because Alison is freaking married and Emily doesn’t see that changing anytime soon.

And that’s fine, because Alison lives in Rosewood and Emily has at least another five years ahead of her here, and maybe in another life they could have been great together, but in this one… maybe it just isn’t meant to be.

The sooner Alison is gone from the hospital, from Emily’s life again, though, the better. It’s too confusing, having her here – hell, it’s barely been twelve hours since she’d laid eyes on the blonde and her head already feels wrecked.

Alana and Ramirez stride into the scrub room, breaking her out of her tumultuous thoughts, and Emily nods to them both before making her way into the operating theatre, settling herself back near the wall where she can have a good view without getting in anyone’s way.

“Dr Fields,” Ramirez clearly has other ideas, though, looking surprised to see her standing so far back. “Would you like to make the first incision?” He holds a scalpel out towards her and Emily is too stunned to move for a second, before quickly nodding and stepping forward. He shows her where to cut, and Emily’s hands are steady as she runs the scalpel across Alison’s skin, wincing behind her mask as she does, hoping it doesn’t leave too nasty a scar when it’s stitched back up. “Good,” Ramirez murmurs when she steps back, nodding in approval. “Don’t go too far, there are a couple of things you can assist me on.”

Emily nods, taking a step back to let him work, watching with interest as he does. Seeing exposed bone, even if it _is_ badly broken, isn’t quite as exciting to Emily as gazing at an open chest and seeing a heart beating back at her, but being in the OR definitely beats any other part of her job – she might love the hectic nature of the ER, but it doesn’t compare to this, to having a body open on the table and watching it be put back together again. Her adrenaline is sky high when Ramirez asks for her assistance, her heart beating excitedly in her chest and _this_ is why she does this job, because as hard as it is, sometimes, it’s so worth the thrill.

The surgery takes five hours, overall, and Emily is almost sad when it’s over because it’s probably the most involved she’s ever been allowed to be in the OR since she started her internship, and maybe she should consider switching her specialty to orthopaedics because she’s sure that the head of cardio barely even knows she exists, let alone her name.

She wheels Alison back up to her room after it’s done, goes with Ramirez and Martinez to find her husband in the waiting room afterwards and tell him that it was a success, and afterwards she finds herself back down in the ER for the remainder  of her shift, knowing that Alison won’t be waking up anytime soon.

She drops back by the blonde’s room before she leaves for the night, pausing when she hears the sound of raised voices from within – and she knows she shouldn’t, that she should walk away and come back later (or even better – just go home and try to forget about the woman that had dropped so unexpectedly back into her life), but instead she finds herself pressing her back against the wall beside the door, and she can hear every word of the argument within and kind of hates herself for it.

“I can’t just take another three weeks off of work, Alison, my patients – ”

“I’m sure Jenny is perfectly capable of filling in for you for a little longer.” Alison’s voice is cold, colder than Emily’s heard it in a long, long time – it takes her back to when they’d been fourteen and Alison had been the perfect mean girl, spitting insults like they were her oxygen.

“It’s not fair to ask her to - ”

“I think it’s plenty fair to ask that of her, _honey_.” She says the term of endearment like it’s a curse. “Considering she’s been fucking my husband for the past six months behind my back, I think it’s the _least_ she can do, don’t you?”

No response comes for a while, and Emily’s eyes are wide as she stands in the hallway with her heart beating loud in her ears, and maybe Alison’s life isn’t as perfect as Emily had thought it was – and she’d been right with her first assessment of ‘complete fucking asshole’ because who in their right mind would cheat on someone as incredible as _Alison_?

“Would you not prefer to be back home, with your family?”

“ _What_ family?” Alison’s voice is raw, aching with pain, and Emily longs to go in there and soothe it away. “My sister’s dead,” Emily’s eyes widen even further at that, because she’d had no idea, “I haven’t seen my brother since he walked out two years ago and my Dad… my Dad hasn’t been able to look me in the eye for seven years, so, no, David, when I do go home, it won’t be for my _family_. This is a good hospital, and I’m staying here until they discharge me.”

“And this has nothing to do with _her_?” He asks, then, and Emily’s ears start to burn because there’s no mistaking the ‘her’ he’s talking about.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, I recognised her straight away. She’s on the photograph you keep on your nightstand – the picture I never understood why you kept because you only still talk to two of the girls on it. I guess I get it now, though – who is she to you?”

“I told you,” Alison’s voice turns weary, and Emily’s considering going in there because she’d just had major surgery and the last thing she needs right now is added stress. “She’s just a friend.”

“Right.” Rollins’ voice is heavy on the sarcasm, and Emily feels her jaw clench, angry on Alison’s behalf.

“Don’t you dare question me,” Alison says, then, her voice low, dangerous, and Emily can only imagine the way her eyes are flashing. “Not after everything you’ve put me through.” There’s a moment of silence, and Emily only has about three seconds before she hears angry footsteps heading for the door. She scrambles back a few steps and tries to make it look like she’d only just been on her way down the hallway – from the look Rollins gives her as he strides past her, Emily doesn’t think that she’s been entirely convincing, but whatever. Why should she give a shit about _his_ feelings?

“Hey,” Emily calls as she slips through the door to Alison’s room, concern rushing through her when she sees that the blonde’s wiping away tears. “Are you okay?” Alison doesn’t answer, just shakes her head, and Emily is at her side within a second, pulling a chair up to the side of her bed and taking her hand. “Okay so maybe I overheard some of your conversation because I’m nosy and I actually do know what’s wrong – I’m sorry your husband’s a dick.”

Alison manages a watery laugh, and Emily fishes out a pack of tissues from her pocket and hands one to the blonde, which she takes gratefully.

“Sorry,” she apologises as she dabs at her eyes. “I must look a mess.”

“Impossible,” Emily murmurs in reply, and she means it – even like this, with flushed cheeks and red, puffy eyes, Alison is beautiful, just as she always is. “You wanna talk about it?”

“You really want to talk about my marriage issues?”

“Honestly? No.” She makes a face, because talking about Alison’s husband is the _last_ thing she really wants to be doing after a fourteen hour shift and running on very little sleep, but… “But it’s obviously upsetting you, and if talking about it will help…”

“I don’t think anything could help us now,” Alison murmurs quietly, her attention focused on her hands, clasped in her lap. “We’ve been having issues for a while,” she explains. “This trip… it was for our anniversary, yes, but it was also… kind of an attempt to fix things between us. God,” she shakes her head, bites at her bottom lip and looks frustrated. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever married him in the first place.”

“So why did you?” Emily can scarcely even imagine being so in love with someone that she’d agree to spend the rest of her life with them. She’s not exactly scared of commitment, but she’s hyper-aware of the fact that she’s twenty-five years old and her longest relationship to date had barely lasted six months.

“Because I was young and stupid and I thought I was in love.” Emily’s still holding Alison’s hand, the blonde’s skin warm beneath her fingertips, and she finds herself absently stroking her thumb over the back of her hand as Alison talks, and she wonders how just a single, simple touch can make her feel so alive. “I was twenty when I met him, and he was my first serious relationship so everything was… everything felt so electric, you know?”

Emily does know, because she remembers how it had felt, when she’d been with Maya – how everything had felt like it clicked into place, how everything had been so heightened because it was all so new.

“We’d barely been together for a year when he proposed. Hell, we weren’t even living together at that point, but I said yes because he looked at me like I was his whole world and he told me he loved me more than anything I believed him.” There’s a faraway look in Alison’s eyes as she talks, her eyes focused on the wall opposite her instead of Emily’s face, and there’s a spark of life that flickers on her face and Emily can see the echo of how happy she’d been, at the start.

“I was married by the time I was twenty-two and then it started to sink in, y’know? That I was tied down for my whole when I felt like I’d barely lived at all. Things got a little strained once the honeymoon period wore off but… I stayed, because I thought I had something special, and then… then Charlotte died.”

Pain colours her voice and Emily’s hand squeezes hers tightly, because she might not understand how Alison was so quick to be able to forgive her sister for what she’d done but she knows that Alison had loved her, and losing her couldn’t have been easy.

“I’m so sorry, Ali.” More tears swim in the blonde’s eyes, and Emily reaches for another tissue. “What happened?”

“She killed herself.” Alison’s voice wavers, and she takes a deep breath to try and calm herself down. “Overdose. Ironic, right?” There’s no humour in the blonde’s voice, though. “And David… he was her psychiatrist – that was how we met. And I blamed him for what happened to her, because how could he not have _seen_ that something was wrong with her?”

“It’s not always that easy,” Emily murmurs, because she knows how difficult it can be, sometimes, to see the underlying symptoms that patients try so hard to hide.

“I know, and I knew I was being stupid, but… it was like I’d been waiting for a reason to blow up at him, and god, that gave me a good one.” She shakes her head, frustration written across her features. “He moved out, to give me a little space, and when I’d calmed down I went to him to apologize and I… I went to his office and found him screwing his colleague on his desk.” Her mouth twists as she says it, and Emily clenches her own jaw, wants to _hurt_ him for doing this to Alison.

“He’s an idiot,” she says, her voice quiet but forceful. “An idiot for doing that to you. For giving up on you.”

“ _You_ gave up on me.” There’s no accusation in Alison’s voice, though – she just looks sad, mostly, and Emily feels more guilt trickle through her veins.

“I…” She trails off, because okay, she doesn’t really have a good reply to that, because she _had_. She had run away with her tail between her legs because that had been easier. “I’ve already accepted that I’m an idiot,” she settles on saying, eventually, and she wonders if her eyes are filled with the regret that she feels, right down to her bones.

“You know what the worst part about me finding him with her was, though?” Alison asks, then, changing the subject (Emily is grateful – she’s never been good at talking about her past, let alone about her past with Alison _to_ Alison). “I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t hurt or upset or angry, I was just… empty. And that’s when I knew that I didn’t love him anymore. If I ever truly had at all.”

“And yet you’re still together,” Emily points out, gently, and Alison sighs.

“Barely,” she scoffs. “He begged me for one last chance to save our marriage and I agreed out of… some sense of obligation, I guess. So we came back to the same place we had our honeymoon and then on the first day, I fall and break my ankle and it brings me to you.” Alison’s eyes finally lift from her lap to meet Emily’s, and she swallows thickly at the look she sees in them, a storm of mixed emotions. “Do you believe in fate, Em?”

“I… No, I don’t think so.” Her brain is too scientific for that, too focused on fact rather than things like fate and destiny – hell, she doesn’t even read her horoscope.

“Neither did I,” Alison admits softly. “At least not until yesterday.” She holds Emily’s gaze for a long moment, and she feels like she can barely breathe under the weight of it, under the weight of her _words_ , and her throat feels tight, her head feeling dizzy as she thinks about the implications behind her them.

“I… um, I have to go.” She watches Alison’s face fall and hates herself, just a little, but it’s too much – too much, too fast, and she needs to get out of there and away from Alison before she says something stupid like ‘I don’t know if I ever stopped loving you’.

“Okay.” Alison doesn’t look upset, as she watches Emily with careful eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Emily nods, because she knows there’s no avoiding the blonde, not really – she just hopes that, with a little bit of time to process the last two days, it’ll be a little easier to face her tomorrow.

She expects it’s going to be another long, sleepless night.


	3. Chapter 3

Emily’s head is still spinning by the time she makes it back to her apartment. It’s not much – a tiny one bedroom – but it’s _hers_. Her parents had offered to help her out and buy her a bigger place but she’d declined, using the money she’d built up working her way through college to put down the deposit, and her salary as an intern just about covers the rent.

The first thing she does is call the pizza place a couple of blocks away and places an order. Her cooking skills had improved _somewhat_ whilst she’d been at college, but these days whenever she’s lucky enough to make it home she’s rarely in the mood to cook, and tonight is no exception.

Order placed, she strips off her clothes and climbs into the shower, needing to wash two days’ worth of grime off her body. She lets the hot water beat against her skin and wishes it could wash away her thoughts, too – her mind is still firmly fixed on Alison, and she doesn’t know how to make it _stop_.

None of it feels real. She can barely believe that Alison is back in her life in the most surprising way imaginable – she thinks what the odds are, that Alison would hurt herself in a ski resort so close to where Emily works, thinks of how unlikely it is for her to end up in Emily’s ER as her patient (how she wasn’t technically even supposed to _be_ in the ER when Alison had been brought in), and wonders if maybe the blonde had been on to something when she’d talked about fate.

But that’s ridiculous, because Emily doesn’t _believe_ in any of that bullshit. But she doesn’t believe in coincidences, either, and this whole thing is just… it’s impossible, all of it. A part of her is half-convinced that Alison had somehow elaborately planned this entire thing, but then she thinks back to the look of complete and utter surprise on Alison’s face when Emily had tugged back that curtain and knows that it wasn’t faked.

And now Emily doesn’t know what to _do_ with herself. She’d said goodbye and left Alison behind and thought it was for good – that was the only way she’d been able to move on. But now, having her back, even if it was only briefly? Emily doesn’t know how to let that go, doesn’t know how she’s going to let _Alison_ go, not for a second time. And from Alison’s words earlier on, maybe she doesn’t even want Emily to try to.

But that’s impossible, too, isn’t it? That the two of them could ever be together? Because Alison is still married, for fuck’s sake, they lived in completely incompatible parts of the country and yet… and yet there’s the lingering thought in Emily’s mind, of whether she’d ever be able to forgive herself if she let this chance pass her by just like she had all those years ago.

God, her head is so fucked. _She_ is so fucked because in addition to all of that, Alison is her _patient_ , and will be for pretty much the entire time she’s in Minnesota, and the hospital has _strict_ rules about doctor-patient fraternisation and if Emily even comes close to breaking that… she’d lose her job, and it’d be difficult for her to get hired anywhere else.

It’s all just a giant mess, and Emily wonders what she’d even done to _deserve_ this kind of bad luck. She’s a doctor, for Christ sake – she saves people’s lives for a living, so where’s her good karma?

Nowhere in sight, apparently, considering she probably has at least another two weeks of this hell left.

God, she is so screwed.

She’s glad when the doorbell rings as she’s stepping out of the shower, because if anything can make her feel better it’s pizza, and she tugs a robe around her shoulders before padding over to the door, the right amount of cash already clutched tightly in one hand.

The delivery guy isn’t one she’s seen before, and his eyes widen when he takes in the sight of her and her lack of clothes – she’s tempted not to leave a tip, because of the ogling, but that would mean waiting for change so she just hands him the twenty dollar bill, takes the pizza and slams the door in his face.

She sticks Netflix on her laptop while she eats, suddenly ravenous – one of the worst parts of the job was forgetting to eat regular meals, and sometimes she’ll end up going nearly a whole day without one because her body’s apparently forgotten how to feel hunger – and she eats two more slices than she normally would and groans when she’s done, already regretting it as she collapses backwards on her couch and settles her laptop across her stomach, vowing that _this_ time she won’t fall asleep on here before her episode finishes and end up with a bad back again.

She dozes off, of course – she _always_ does, and really, she should buy a more comfortable couch with how often she finds herself accidentally sleeping on it – but is snapped out of it by a loud ringing, blinking blearily at her screen for a few seconds before smiling as she recognises the name flashing across Skype.

“Hey, stranger,” she answers the call, smile widening when the face of her best friend takes up the screen. “A little late for you to be calling, isn’t it?” It’s nearly midnight, which means it’ll be nearing one in the morning in New York.

 _“Ah, who needs sleep, anyway,”_ Hanna answers, tone amazingly bright considering the late hour. _“I saw you were online and couldn’t believe my eyes so I had to call you.”_

“Sorry I haven’t been around lately.” It’s been a while since the two of them had had a chance to catch up, and just like every time she sees the blonde’s face the urge to see her in person comes rushing back full force, and Emily wished they lived just a _little_ closer. “Work’s been crazy. This is the first time I’ve been home for three days.”

 _“Shit, seriously?”_ Hanna shakes her head. _“I don’t know how you do it. Or why – so much work for such shitty pay.”_

“It’s only shitty until I’m qualified,” Emily points out, thinking dreamily of the pay checks she’s hopefully going to get one day – where she’ll definitely be able to afford a better apartment than this one.

 _“Which is in how many years, again?”_ Hanna teases, and Emily makes a face.

“Well, we can’t all be amazing fashion designers, can we?” Hanna had gotten an internship straight out of high school, and she’d quickly risen through the ranks at the company she was at, building up an extensive, high profile client list before striking out on her own last year (the amount of money she’s earning makes Emily’s head spin, and she’s _totally_ not jealous at _all_ ). “How’s it going?”

 _“Oh, you know – my clients being awkward, my colleagues being incompetent, my rivals making me want to shoot someone. Just the usual.”_ Emily shakes her head, because she doesn’t know how Hanna does it – the route to becoming a surgeon might be cutthroat, but the fashion world is something else entirely. _“How about you? Apart from being super busy?”_

Emily debates for a hot second whether to tell Hanna about Alison. Her friend has never exactly been Alison’s biggest fan, _especially_ when it came to talking about the way Emily felt about her, because she’d been convinced that Emily would just end up heartbroken. She knows that the two of them haven’t talked since the day Hanna left Rosewood at all, and she also knows that Hanna doesn’t really regret that, either.

 _“Okay, what’s_ that _look for?”_ Emily knows she’s piqued Hanna’s interest as the blonde raises an eyebrow. _“You seeing that hot doctor again?”_

“No,” Emily says with a roll of her eyes. Hanna had been overjoyed when she’d caught sight of a half-dressed Alana once when she’d called, and Emily swears that the blonde is more invested in her love life than Emily is herself. “I… I had a surprising patient.”

_“I’m going to need a few more details than that, Em.”_

“It was Alison.” She kind of wants to close her eyes as she says it, doesn’t want to see Hanna’s reaction, but she doesn’t, and she watches the way the blonde’s eyes widen in surprise. “Well, it still _is_ Alison, considering she’s going to be at the hospital awhile.”

_“Is she okay?”_

“She’s got a nasty broken ankle but apart from that, yeah.”

_“Wow. That’s…”_

“Crazy?”

 _“Yeah. Shit. How’re you holding up?”_ Hanna’s reservations about Alison are pushed aside, concern for Emily firmly taking their place, and that’s just one of the many reasons why Emily loves her.

“Uh, not great,” she answers honestly, because her mind is still tumultuous, still turning over their conversation. “She’s _married_.” Hanna doesn’t look surprised, like Emily expected – instead she looks extremely guilty, and Emily gasps. “You _knew_?!”

_“I… Ugh, fine, yeah I knew. Spencer told me.”_

“And neither of you thought to tell _me_?” Emily’s hurt, most of all – she’d known that Spencer and Alison still talked regularly (she’d been surprised by it, at first, but it kinda made sense – out of the four girls, Spencer was the one Alison was most alike, and they were practically family, after all), hadn’t wondered until now why Spencer had never brought it up (and okay, maybe Emily had asked Spencer not to give her any Alison updates, but something as huge as this? A heads up might have been nice).

 _“We didn’t see the point,”_ Hanna answers, chewing on her bottom lip and looking extremely apologetic. _“You basically said that you never wanted to hear Alison’s name ever again - ”_ Emily flushes, because that was kind of true and _maybe_ that had been a little immature. _“And we didn’t see the point in opening old wounds. You can’t tell me that you would’ve taken the news well.”_

“I guess not,” Emily sighs because yeah, okay, she probably would’ve taken it badly, would have dwelled on it for a long time – maybe even done something stupid and masochistic like travelled back to Rosewood for the wedding and wondered if there was any possibility of Alison leaving her husband for her.

_“How was it, anyway? Seeing her again?”_

“Weird.” Emily shakes her head, still not entirely accepting the whole thing.

_“Weird as in ‘shit, it’s been a while’ or ‘fuck, I think I’m still in love with you’?”_

“Honestly? I don’t know.” She thinks back to how she’d felt when she’d pulled back that curtain to reveal the blonde and sighs. “Both, I guess.”

 _“You are so screwed.”_ Emily huffs out a laugh as the blonde repeats what’s been running through her mind all night.

“Yeah, pretty much. God,” Emily groans, fighting the urge to hold her head in her hands. “I thought I was over her, you know? I thought I did a good job of forgetting about her but considering the second I saw her it all came rushing back like those seven years never happened and nothing had changed, maybe all I did was push it all down.”

 _“That_ would _explain why you haven’t been able to hold down a relationship in all that time_ ,” Hanna points out, and Emily groans again.

“Not helpful, Han.”

 _“What, I’m just_ saying,” the blonde replies, rolling her eyes. _“It probably doesn’t help that you never got closure, either.”_ Emily’s thought about that a lot, thinks that’s a big reason why Alison had haunted her for so long – because she’d thought maybe they had a shot at something, that night in Alison’s room (she hates that she can still remember it like it was yesterday, practically still taste Alison on her lips), but they’d never _talked_ about it again and then everything had gone to shit and it was too late. _“Maybe now that she’s back you can get some.”_ Emily’s eyes widen in alarm, and Hanna rolls hers again. _“Closure, that is, you perv.”_

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think so,” she mutters, and Hanna frowns at her in confusion. “She basically told me that had feelings for me back then, too,” Emily explains with a sigh. “That if I’d done something about it, she would’ve said yes. And then…” She trails off, remembering Alison’s words before Emily had made a quick escape. “Then she said that her ending up in the hospital with me treating her was fate.”

 _“Now_ that’s _messed up. Girl’s married, she shouldn’t be playing with you like that.”_ Hanna looks worried, now, and Emily can see a little anger swimming in her eyes, too – she’s glad that the blonde doesn’t still have Alison’s number (or at least she _hopes_ she doesn’t), because she’s sure if she did Alison would be getting a call from a very disgruntled former friend giving her a piece of her mind.

“Uh, not happily,” Emily adds the punchline, because this entire evening has felt like one giant, sick joke.

 _“Okay, back up and_ explain _,”_ Hanna demands, frowning once again.

“You heard me,” Emily tells her, shaking her head because she can barely believe any of this herself – three days ago her life had been hectic, but normal, and her biggest worry had been when the hell she was finally going to get a decent, uninterrupted night’s sleep. “The only reason she’s in the state is because of some last-ditch attempt to save her marriage. And her husband’s a dick.”

 _“I think you might be a_ little _biased.”_

“He cheated on her.” To Emily, that’s unforgivable, no matter the circumstances around it.

_“Shit.”_

“Pretty much.”

 _“Now I get why your head’s a mess – and why you look like shit.”_ Emily can’t even be offended by that, because she knows she looks pretty awful, can only press her lips together to hide a smile. _“I still… I still think you should try and keep your distance, though, Em. Whether it’s in trouble or not… she’s still married.”_

“I know.” God, she knows that – it’s the thought she’s been trying to drill into her head ever since she’d seen the stupid ring. “And I can’t exactly keep my distance – she’s my patient.”

 _“Can’t you swap?”_ She probably could, but she remembers the surgery from earlier that day, the rush that had flooded through her – and, okay, yeah, maybe there’s the fact that the thought of staying away from Alison when she was so tantalisingly close for the first time in so long (and maybe only for such a short space of time) has a little to do with her reluctance, too. _“You can but you don’t want to. Of course.”_ Hanna shakes her head, frustrated, and Emily knows that she doesn’t understand, that she’s never understand the way Emily is drawn to Alison, like a moth to a flame, and Emily doesn’t even know how she could possibly begin to explain it. _“Let me just state, for the record, that I think this is a terrible idea and you’re only going to end up hurt.”_

It’s pretty much exactly the same advice Hanna had given her about Alison all those years ago, and hearing it again brings a small smile to her face – but that advice hadn’t worked, because Emily had stayed away, far, far away from Alison, but she had still ended up heartbroken, in the end.

_“But I’ll still be your metaphorical shoulder to cry on if you need it.”_

“I love you.” She means it – even though they barely get the chance to see each other in person anymore, their friendship has weathered the storm, and she’s so, so glad that they’re still as close as ever.

 _“I mean, how could you not? I’m just so amazing.”_ Emily scoffs, and Hanna grins. Emily hears something muttered from Hanna’s side of things, watches the way her face turns into a scowl as she turns to throw a glare over her shoulder. _“If you disagree with that so much, you can sleep on the couch, mister.”_

“Hi, Caleb,” Emily calls, raising her voice a little to be heard clearly from Hanna’s computer – he comes into view a few moments later wearing only boxers, his hair mussed on one side from where he’d obviously been sleeping on it. “Did we wake you?”

 _“Ah, it’s fine,”_ Hanna replies as Caleb sits beside her on their couch, wrapping an arm around her waist and smothering a yawn behind his hand. _“He’s used to it by now.”_

 _“That I am,”_ he answers with an easy smile. _“It’s good to see you, Em.”_

“You too.” Hanna and Caleb hadn’t been together all this time – they’d hit a rough patch two years after Hanna had gotten her internship, both so busy with their jobs that they hadn’t had time for one another, but after two years apart they’d eventually found their way back to one another, and Emily couldn’t be happier for them. “How’s work?”

 _“Boring,”_ he replies, face scrunching up in distaste. _“But it keeps me busy while this one’s off travelling the world.”_

 _“Keeps you out of trouble, you mean,”_ Hanna replies smartly, and Caleb grins.

_“That, too. And how’s my favourite surgeon?”_

“Not a surgeon yet,” she reminds him, just like every time he asks. “But I’m good.”

 _“She’s having relationship drama,”_ Hanna tells him, and Emily rolls her eyes. _“Well. Alison drama.”_ Caleb looks interested, but Emily cuts Hanna off before she can say anymore.

“Can we not talk about my drama anymore tonight? I don’t know if I can handle it.”

 _“Alright, I’ll fill him in later,”_ Hanna says, and Emily nods her thanks as she yawns, glancing at the time and wincing, because she has to be back at work in less than four hours and why does she love this job so much again? _“I think you already know what he’d say, anyway.”_

“Stay the hell away from her, she’s bad news?” Emily guess, because Caleb’s feelings about Alison have never been any great secret.

 _“That sounds about right,”_ Hanna replies with a grin. _“Anyway, we’d better let you get to bed, Em, because no offence, but you look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”_

“You have no idea.” She wonders if she’ll get one, though, or if her mind will be unable to switch off, just like it had the previous night – she’d gotten a decent two hours or so in on the couch before Hanna had rang, though, so maybe not. “I’ll speak to you soon?”

 _“Yeah, you’d better. I want Ali-updates.”_ Emily rolls her eyes, and Hanna’s grin widens. _“Night, Em.”_

“Night, guys.”

 _“Goodnight,”_ Caleb murmurs back before the screen goes black and Emily yawns, stretching her arms over her head and trying to summon the will to move. She manages it eventually, shutting off her laptop and making a detour to the fridge to put her leftover pizza in before making her way to her bedroom.

She doesn’t even bother to turn the lights on, just slips out of her robe and into her sheets, naked save for her underwear, sighing happily as she sinks into the mattress, a delightful change from the springs in her couch or the rock-hard beds of the on-call room, and just barely remembers to set an alarm before she falls into a deep sleep.

x-x-x

Emily wakes up the next morning feeling slightly more refreshed than she has for a while – she’d slept without waking once and can’t remember dreaming, and she stares up at her ceiling for a couple of minutes while she waits for herself to wake up completely before she stumbles out of bed.

The first thing she does, as it is every single morning she wakes up in her own bed, is put the coffee machine on. Besides her laptop, it’s probably the most expensive thing in her whole apartment, because if there’s one thing that Emily cannot live without, it’s decent coffee. She’d used to hate the stuff, couldn’t stand the bitterness of it, but after five years of med school and late nights spent up in the library she’d come to rely on the stuff, and she’s never been able to shake the habit (she’s not sure she _can_ – she survives on at least three cups a day and she knows it’s probably awful for her but she’s not sure the world is ready to deal with the zombie she’d be without it).

She notes happily as she stands in-front of her bathroom mirror that the bags under her eyes are less noticeable today, but she still covers them up with a little concealer, anyway – there’s nothing worse than for a patient to think their doctor looks exhausted, after all – before she wanders back into her bedroom and tugs on some clothes, donning her favourite woolly hoodie over the top of them to ward off the chill of the outside air.

Her flask of coffee keeps her hands warm as she makes the short walk to the hospital (her apartment is literally five minutes away and it means that she saves a hell of a lot of money because she doesn’t need a car). It had snowed last night, but not heavily, the sidewalk littered with patches of white. There’s a little ice on the roads, too, and Emily thinks that that’ll mean the ER will be a little busier than usual, too, just like it always is whenever there’s snowfall.

The streets are empty at this hour, the sky dark and streetlights casting an eerie glow, and Emily is glad once she’s safely within the hospital walls – if only for the heating, because she’s spent six years in _California_ for God’s sake, and she is _so_ not used to this kind of weather. She finishes her coffee as she’s reaching the interns locker room, shrugging out of her hoodie and into her scrubs as the room fills up around her.

“Hey, Em,” Dani calls out to her as she yanks open the locker beside the brunette’s. “We’re heading out for drinks after our shift’s done tonight if you wanna come?”

“I’ll see how tired I am,” she replies, and Dani offers her a sympathetic look – Emily always seems to end up working more hours than the rest of the interns, thanks to her inability to say no complex, but it _does_ mean she pulls extra hours in the OR, so she can’t complain _too_ much (only when she’s dead on her feet and hating life). “Drinks sound pretty good, though.”

“Rough week?”

“You could say that.” Emily’s relieved when Evans shows up for rounds before Dani can ask her about it, because Emily’s not entirely sure she can stand to relive the whole thing again. She’s glad that Ramirez had told her yesterday that she didn’t need to do rounds on Alison every day, and that he’d tell her when they were scheduling her second surgery, because she doesn’t like the thought of her first encounter with the blonde after last night being so… professional.

It turns out it’s a while before she can escape to check on the blonde, though, as Evans gives out their assignments for the day and Emily finds herself shadowing one of the neurosurgeons – he’s infamous for shoving as much work on his interns and residents as possible to free him up for consults, and he gets away with it because he’s good enough to bring in cases from all over the world.

Her morning is spent rushing around the neuro ward checking on patients, doing bloodwork, scheduling scans, going through consent forms and going through pre-op procedures (though she doesn’t even get a look in at the ORs – a resident always comes and wheels the patient away before Emily has a chance), and it’s almost five hours before she manages to get a break, rushing up to the cafeteria to get something to eat before the resident who had taken pity on her changed his mind.

She grabs a sandwich and some more coffee, eating quickly before going back for an apple and wandering down to Alison’s room. She pauses outside of the door to gather herself and her thoughts before pushing it open – Alison glances up from the book she’s reading as she hears the door, and a soft smile crosses her face when she recognises Emily, closing the book and setting it down.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Emily sets her coffee and her apple down on the table by Alison’s bed, laden with the untouched lunch the blonde was supposed to be eating, and glances over her chart to check that nothing’s changed. “How are you today?”

“A little better. They upped my dosage of pain meds after the surgery yesterday, so…” Alison trails off with a shrug and Emily nods, glancing down at the blonde’s leg – Alison moves the covers of the blanket away without being asked, and Emily smiles gratefully as she takes a look. Not that there’s much to see – her entire lower leg is covered by a brace, metal rods sticking out of the side to keep the bones within in place.

“Not like looking at it?” Emily asks when she sees Alison looking very pointedly away, and she grimaces as she pulls the blanket back over it, hiding it from view.

“No, it’s gross.” She shudders, and Emily laughs.

“Pretty cool, though,” she points out as she slides the chart back into place at the bottom of the blonde’s bed and retrieves her coffee cup. “You’re like the bionic woman.”

“Still gross,” Alison insists. “I don’t know how you do it.” Emily looks at her questioningly, and she adds, “Cut people open. I think I’d throw up.”

“Not going to lie, the first time I saw a body open on the table, I nearly did.” She remembers the wave of nausea that had roiled through her stomach when she’d done her first hospital visit back in med school – it had been the smell, more than anything, that she hadn’t been expecting. She’d bitten it back, though (and sat least she hadn’t fainted, like one guy did – which was surprisingly common, they’d been told), and it had been replaced by awe as she’d seen her very first open chest cavity. “You get used to it.”

“Don’t think I ever would.” She shudders again, and Emily lets out a quiet chuckle.

“You always were squeamish.” She remembers the first time she’d watched a gory horror film with Alison present – the blonde’s face had grown visibly paler as the first murder had taken place, and she’d spent the remainder of the movie hiding behind a pillow.

“I was _not_.”

“Uh, yes you were. Or have you forgotten that time we watched all the Saw movies at one sleepover and after the second one you spent three hours in the bathroom with ‘food poisoning’?”

“I was _ill_!” Alison protests, but Emily shakes her head in disbelief. “Okay, fine, I didn’t have food poisoning. I don’t know why you like those movies.”

“Mostly I just liked your reaction,” Emily admits, and Alison’s eyes narrow into a playful glare. “It was cute.” Alison’s glare softens, smile tugging at her lips, instead, and Emily wonders if she’s said too much and clears her throat. “Where’s your husband?”

“I, uh, sent him back home, actually.” Emily doesn’t expect the words, blinks at Alison in surprise. “All we seem to be doing lately is argue and he can do his patients more good than he can me right now, so.”

“Oh. And you’re uh, okay with that? It’s not going to be fun for you, cooped up in here on your own.”

“I have you.” Emily swallows and looks away, snatching her apple up from the table and taking a bite, if only so she can think of something to say. “And he dropped off some of my things before he left. It’s for the best, trust me.”

“I can’t believe he actually left you here.” Emily thinks that, no matter how much of a rough patch she was going through with someone she loved, she wouldn’t leave their side in a situation like this.

“Well, he was a little upset when I told him I wanted a divorce,” Alison says conversationally, like she was talking about the weather and not about ending a marriage, and Emily’s eyes widen in surprise as she nearly chokes on a piece of apple. “So I don’t blame him.”

“I… you’re… _what_?” Emily splutters, coughing to dislodge the piece of fruit in her throat before taking a gulp of her coffee, wincing as the scorching liquid slides down her throat. “Should you be making decisions like that while you’re high on pain meds?”

“Probably not,” Alison admits with a small shrug. “But… I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I always knew that if this trip didn’t work out then that’s what I would do, and… it didn’t.”

“It might have.” Emily doesn’t know why she’s trying to talk Alison out of divorcing Mr Asshole, but the decision just seems really kind of… _sudden_.

“It wouldn’t,” Alison argues with a shake of her head. “I always knew it wasn’t going to work out. I don’t love him anymore – not like I used to. Not like I should if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him. And he clearly doesn’t love me if he’s been fucking Jenny for so long, so it might seem sudden,” Emily’s lips twitch into a smile, wondering if Alison can read the thoughts in Emily’s head from her expression. “But it’s really, really not.”

“As long as you don’t regret it.”

“I don’t,” Alison murmurs, her voice soft. “Maybe I will when I have time to process it a little more but… right now I know it was the right thing to do.” She worries at her bottom lip, then, and Emily raises an expectant eyebrow, guessing that there’s something on her mind. “Ab-about last night, about what I said… if I was out of line I’m sorry. Pain meds and all – I can’t exactly control everything I say.”

“It’s… it’s okay. You weren’t out of line.” She probably should have said that she _was_ because they’re straying back into dangerous territory when they should be staying to nice, safe topics where the urge to tell Alison how she feels has very little chance of accidentally tumbling out of her mouth.

“Really?” Emily nods, and Alison smiles. “Well, in that case – I made that last part up. I knew exactly what I was saying, pain meds or no.” Alison’s eyes sparkle with mischief as they meet Emily’s, so full of confidence and so unlike the Alison that Emily was used to, and she lets out a short laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Oh, shoot,” she mutters as she catches sight of the time on her watch, wondering if she’s going to be yelled at by Dr Ashcroft for taking too long a break. “I’m going to have to run.” Alison looks a little crestfallen, but nods. “You know, you should really eat that,” Emily says as she passes the uneaten food on the tray beside the blonde’s bed. “You need to keep up your strength.”

“And I _would_ if it didn’t taste so fucking awful.” Emily laughs, glancing down at it again and deciding that yeah, it _does_ look pretty unappetising, and she’s thankful, not for the first time, that the cafeteria food is _very_ different from the patient food. “Can you not sneak me in a burger or something?”

“Definitely not.” She’d _definitely_ get herself in trouble if she got caught doing something like that, and not even Alison’s adorable pout is going to make her risk it.

“A sandwich, then? A bag of chips? A muffin? Literally anything other than this crap?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she says with a wry shake of her head, and Alison’s responding radiant smile plays on her mind for the rest of the afternoon. 


	4. Chapter 4

 

"I don't know what the hell you've going on with her, but it's going to get your ass  _fired_ if you're not careful," Alana hisses to Emily later that week, after they'd met in Alison's room with Ramirez to go through the blonde's second (and hopefully final) surgery.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Emily denies, but she knows she's not fooling anyone when Alana scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder and shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yeah,  _right_. You  _know_ what the rules for… fraternizing with patients are - "

"I'm not  _fraternizing_ with her," Emily hisses back, keeping her voice low because she knows that all around them, eager ears are bound to be listening in – this hospital is worse than high school, sometimes, when it comes to gossip. "We're just friends."

"You keep telling yourself that," Alana replies softly, looking at Emily with a hint of pity in her eyes. "Whatever, I don't care what you do – just don't say I didn't warn you." Emily chews on her bottom lip when Alana spins away and strides off down the corridor, wondering if she really is pushing things further than she should be.

But it wasn't like she and Alison were fucking in her hospital bed. Emily just checked up on her, that was all – she'd spend part of her lunch break sitting in the chair in the blonde's room, keeping her company for as long as she could, and then after her shift had ended, no matter what hour that may be, she'd find Alison waiting up for her.

Sometimes they talked long into the night – so much so that Emily had only actually gone home one night in the past week since Alison's first surgery, spending most of her nights sleeping in an on-call room, instead, because by the time she left Alison there was little point in her going home just to come back to the hospital a few hours later.

They talk about anything and everything, catching one another up on their lives from the past seven years. Emily hears all about Alison's college adventures at Hollis (her favourite story is probably the one where Alison admitted to having a fling with another woman during her second year there – she'd whispered with flaming cheeks that it had been the best sex of her life and Emily had nearly choked on the water she was drinking), and in return she tells Alison of hers at Stanford.

Alison explains that she'd never planned to become a teacher – she didn't think that anyone in Rosewood would want someone with her history teaching their children, but after coaching the soccer team at Lorenzo's urging all those years ago she'd developed a taste for it and a desire to shape kid's minds in a way she wishes some of her teachers could have done for her. It had been Charlotte, in the end, who had encouraged her to, in Alison's words, 'do whatever the hell she wanted and fuck what anyone else thinks about it'.

Emily learns about the slow dissolution of Alison's family, how Jason hadn't been able to bear the lie his life had become, hadn't ever been able to forgive his father for what he'd done. He'd descended back into alcoholism to try to escape the pain, and after Alison had dragged him to rehab he'd gotten himself sober again but told her that sticking around was only going to make him drink again. Emily watched the tears well in Alison's eyes as she'd spoken of her brothers goodbye and had found herself reaching for the blonde's hand – it's a habit she can't quite seem to shake, the urge to reach out and tangle her fingers with Alison's, feeling her warmth and the faint flicker of the pulse in her wrist, as if she's assuring herself that she actually exists, that Alison's actually  _there_.

Her heart aches as Alison talks about what had happened to Charlotte, descending into depression just as their brother had given into his vice – the guilt of what she'd done, Alison said, had begun to sink in once Charlotte had started to get the help that she needed, and she'd never quite been able to forgive herself, and no matter how Alison tried to help, it hadn't been enough.

While Emily had moved away from her family, Alison stayed with them and yet somehow Emily ended up with the same, secure family system she'd always had while Alison had been forced to watch, helpless, as her own turned to rubble in-front of her eyes.

They tend to stray away from relationships – Alison had already spilled as much of her and her husband's story that she wanted to tell and that Emily wanted to hear, and Emily didn't really have many relationships to speak of at all. Alison's eyes had sparkled when Emily had admitted to being a bit of a player in college (she didn't say why, couldn't admit that most of it was to try to escape, to try to  _forget_ , because she doesn't know how to voice it aloud, not to the woman she'd been trying so hard to run from), and murmured with a smirk that she'd always known that Emily had it in her, she just needed a bit more confidence.

Emily fills Alison in, as much as she can, on what the other girls have been up to during their time away. She admits that, while she still talks to Spencer regularly, the brunette rarely mentions the others – and never Emily – that after a while, Alison had stopped asking, assuming that the girls didn't want her to know.

It's been strange, getting to know Alison again. It's difficult for her to try to merge the memories of the girl she used to know with the woman Alison is now, because she's so different that Emily can scarcely believe she's the same person. Most of her old traits are still there, though, hiding beneath the surface – her strength, her determination, her character – and the more they talk, the harder Emily finds it to leave her, the more Emily feels her old feelings rushing to the surface, because her Alison had been wonderful, that was true, but this Alison… this Alison is something else entirely, and Emily finds her intoxicating.

Alana's words play on Emily's mind for the rest of the morning, as she trails her resident and carries out the menial tasks Evans assigns to her. She doesn't mind it – chasing down paperwork and lab results or drawing blood would make her fellow interns groan and complain, but Emily rarely does either of those things, content to just get on with it because she knows that the less complaining she does, the better impression she makes.

She's glad for it today because it leaves her mind free to wander as she wonders if anything that's passed between her and Alison over the past seven days could be deemed as inappropriate. To the outside eye, Emily doesn't think so, but to her own? She thinks that there have been one too many lingering glances, absent touches and hand holding, for whatever the hell it is they're doing to be described as strictly platonic.

Which is wrong, she knows, because whether he's there or not, and whether their relationship is in trouble or not, Alison's still married – and once she's recovered from this surgery, she'll be going back to Rosewood, and Emily doesn't know if she'll ever see the blonde again.

_That's_ a thought that plays on her mind a lot, too. Because she can feel herself falling – she does a little more every time she learns something new about Alison, every time their eyes meet and Alison holds her gaze, as Emily feels herself falling into an endless pool of blue, her heart racing every time Alison's fingers brush against her skin.

She doesn't know if she ever got over Alison, but having her back makes her think that she probably didn't, because it's all too easy for her to fall back into old habits. Habits like wondering if Alison feels the same way Emily does whenever they touch, if Alison wants to kiss her as much as Emily wants to kiss Alison, sometimes – when she talks about her job or her students she lights up, life sparkling in her eyes and she looks so beautiful that it's all Emily can do to curl her hands around the seat of her chair to try and root herself in place, to shake away the unquenchable urge she has to reach out, curl a hand around the blonde's cheek, and kiss her until she forgets why she should ever stop. And when they talk about darker topics, like their shared history or Alison's family, and her eyes shimmer with unshed tears and her voice wavers with the echo of her sadness, Emily longs to reach out and kiss it all away.

But she doesn't, because Alison is married, and Alison is her patient, and Emily doesn't even know if Alison feels the same way – and she can't  _ask_ her because Alison is her  _married patient_  and Emily's confident that whatever 'fate' that had brought them together like Alison thinks is really just trying to test Emily's self-restraint.

She has to face Alison again that afternoon to do her pre-op before she can be taken to the OR, and she hopes that her tumultuous thoughts or emotions don't show on her face as she walks into the blonde's room.

"Nervous?" She asks when she finds Alison staring at the ceiling chewing on her bottom lip looking lost in thought, and she jumps at the sound of Emily's voice.

"Not as much as last time," she admits. "And I'll feel better when I don't have so many pins sticking out of my leg."

"They'll just be inside your leg, instead," Emily replies, grinning when Alison shudders. "You'll be beeping through the metal detectors at airports for the rest of your life."

"Can't wait – I do love getting felt up by strangers in public places."

"Mm, that's good to know." She winks, and Alison smirks, her eyes sparkling.

"Well,  _you're_ not a stranger," she starts, and Emily  _had_ been checking the fluid drip that snakes its way into the crook of Alison's elbow, but at the conspiratorial tone of Alison's voice, almost teasing, her hands shake so much that she has to stop, hiding them behind her back instead. "And you're free to feel me up in public anytime you please."

_She_ winks, then, and Emily feels a little dazed, finding it a little hard to breathe – this is something else, that's different with Alison, these days. She openly flirts, and Emily can't tell if she's like this with everyone or if it's just her but either way, it completely disarms her, and she's sure that Alison knows this and wants to see how far she can push it before Emily says something about it.

"Let's get you down to the OR," Emily manages to say when she feels like she can speak without her voice trembling, and Alison hides her smile behind a cough, settling back in the bed as Emily presses it flat.

"How long do you think it'll be before I can walk properly again after this?" Alison asks as Emily begins to wheel her down the hall.

"Between three to five months," Emily answers promptly, laughing when Alison shoots her an unimpressed look.

"That's a bullshit answer," she complains as the elevator dings its arrival and Emily pushes them inside.

"It's a realistic answer," she shrugs. "Every patient is different. If you work at it, go to physio if you need it, but don't push it too far too soon then three months is achievable."

"It's still three months of having to reply on other people," Alison groans, and Emily squeezes her shoulder sympathetically, because  _that_ is something about Alison that has not changed – she's still as independent as ever. "Three months of my kids being able to run me ragged at school."

"I wouldn't have thought that Ms DiLaur – sorry, Rollins," Emily corrects quickly, wincing, "would stand for any shenanigans."

"I don't, but they'll see a cast as a sign of weakness," Alison says darkly, and Emily grins – she thinks that Alison probably makes a great teacher, laid back until the kids tried to take advantage, where she'd snap back into the bitch mode that had served her so well (well, sometimes) as a teenager vying to rule the school. "And it will be Miss DiLaurentis soon," she adds, her voice soft as her eyes glance up to meet Emily's almost shyly. "I filed for divorce yesterday."

Emily doesn't really know what she's supposed to say to  _that_  and Emily thinks that it'll take a while for those words to sink in – she's spent every second of the past eight days reminding herself not to fall too hard, because Alison is married, would be going back to her husband (she knows that Alison had claimed she wanted to divorce last week, but since then she hadn't mentioned it at all and Emily had secretly wondered if she had changed her mind) when she was discharged from the hospital that has become a kind of nirvana for the two of them, a place to reconnect and forget all about the realism of the outside world and the impossibilities that separate them, and with all of that out of the way… she doesn't know what to think.

She's spared having to try by the arrival of the anaesthesiologist, leaves Alison with a brief, comforting squeeze of her hand but not a single word, and retreats to the scrub room and tries to push that entire conversation away because she can't allow her mind to dwell on it, refuses to let herself get distracted during surgery, so as she soaps up her hands she takes a deep breath and forces thoughts of Alison far, far away.

This is just another surgery on another patient and she just needs to  _focus_.

Much like last time, Ramirez allows her to assist more than she's usually permitted with other attendings (she's usually just lucky to be allowed in the OR to observe), letting her open and close, and he even asks her if she wants to take out one of the pins – she has to take a deep breath to force her hands to stop trembling, but it's always been easy for her to push aside her nerves in the heat of the moment, when she needs to stay steady, and it's one of the things she's been commended for the most during her training so far.

She needs steady hands, though, for what she wants to do. In the early days of her year of an intern, she'd spent hours upon hours in the skills lab, practicing complex sutures and parts of procedures much more difficult than she'd be allowed to do at her level, but she'd been determined to be the best she could be – in just her fifth week she'd attracted the head of plastic surgery's attention with her faultless sutures, leaving patients at minimal risk for scarring, and Emily had practically glowed with pride.

That's how she's gotten to this point – by working at it. She's sacrificed a lot to get here – her family, her friends, any kind of love life to speak of. Hell, she barely even has a social life here, even surrounded by others who understand how difficult this job is, how desperately busy it can be. She has Dani and Luke but she scarcely sees them outside of the walls of the hospital, which is fine, but… the past few days with Alison have made her wonder if maybe she's missing something. If maybe it would be nice to go home to someone at the end of the day, to talk things through, to have a little company in her apartment other than pizza and Netflix.

She decides she's just being stupid, though, as she waits in Alison's room for her to wake up – she'd finished her shift a half hour ago and returned to find that the blonde was still sleeping off the anaesthetic.

She tells herself that she's waiting just to check that the surgery hadn't left any lasting effects, but she knows that that's a lie. She's here because somewhere along the way, talking to Alison had become the brightest part of her day. And Emily had thought that she didn't need that, didn't need anything other than this job that she loves, but now she's wondering if maybe she needs (wants) something  _more_.

Something or some _one_. Maybe like the blonde bombshell whose room she's currently hiding in, munching on an apple as she perches on the narrow windowsill, her forehead resting against the glass as she watches the world outside pass her by.

It's dark out, the sky unusually clear and glittering with stars. The city beyond sparkles with light, and Emily passes the time by watching the people on the sidewalk below, inventing stories for each and every one of them in her head.

She doesn't know how long she's been sat there when she hears the sound of movement from behind her, turns to hear a groan as Alison blinks awake and moves quickly over to her side, checking her vital signs and letting out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding when everything seems normal.

"What's the verdict, doc?" Alison asks with a sleepy smile, her voice raspy from disuse, and Emily takes in the sight of her, so much more beautiful than the night sky outside, and knows that she's completely and totally done for.

"It went well, no complications. You'll be up and out of here in no time." Emily smiles, but it feels hollow, because she's dreading that day coming, dreading Alison leaving – Emily had been the one to walk away, last time, and she's not sure she'll be able to bear to be the one left behind.

"Good." Alison's voice is a little subdued, too, and Emily would give anything to know what she's thinking; if it's the same thing she is – that she doesn't want their days together to end. But they've always been numbered, and Emily had been stupid to forget that. "How long before they discharge me?" Her voice is so quiet that it's practically a whisper, but Emily still hears it, has to fight away the wave of panic that thinking about it brings up in her chest.

"It really depends. They'll want to get you up and moving before then and make sure that…" She trials off, biting her lip as she realises what she'd been going to say, and Alison raises an eyebrow, questioning.

"That?"

"That, um, you have a support system in place for when you get back home."

"Oh." A dark look flashes across Alison's face, and Emily shifts uncomfortably, dropping into her usual chair beside the blonde's bed just for something to do. "And if I  _don't_ have that?"

"There must be someone," Emily argues, because she's  _Alison_ , she's always been surrounded by others, always. "I know your family's probably out and so is your husband, but is there a friend you can call? Someone at work?"

"There's no-one," Alison admits quietly, unable to look Emily in the eye. "The people at work… they're all so much older than me and because they know my history… they ignore me, for the most part, and that's okay." She shrugs, but Emily can see the pain in her eyes as she fiddles idly with the edges of the thin blanket that covers her body, and it breaks her heart. "It means I can concentrate more on my students."

"Why… why did you stay there? Why not go somewhere else?"

"Because I needed to be there for Charlotte." Alison's voice is raw, just like it is every time she talks about her sister. "When I was looking for a job… it was around the time she started to get worse," Alison explains softly. "She started hurting herself, she wouldn't eat… Rosewood High was close enough to the hospital she was in for me to be able to go there during my lunch breaks, and to go straight after school to make the most of visiting hours. I knew it wouldn't be easy to go back there, and I knew the other teachers wouldn't accept me, but I… I did it for her. To try to help her."

"You're a good sister, Ali," Emily tries to comfort her, reaching for the blonde's hand just like she always seems to, squeezing tightly.

"But I couldn't save her." Alison's voice breaks, and Emily sees the tears welling up behind her eyes and moves without thinking, perching on the edge of Alison's bed and wrapping an arm around the blonde's shoulders, tugging her close so that her face was buried in the crook of Emily's neck, her cheek damp against Emily's skin.

She rubs comforting circles at the small of Alison's back as she lets her get it all out – she suspects that Alison has been bottling this up for a while, has tried to push away her emotions and is only dealing with them (along with those she must have from deciding to file for divorce) now, doesn't say a word as Alison's sobs echo around the room.

She tries to ignore how being so close to the blonde for the first time in over seven years makes her feel. Her skin burns wherever they touch, and she can feel the heat of Alison's skin through her thin hospital gown and it makes her ache in all the ways it shouldn't, and she hopes that Alison can't hear the frantic beating of her heart, brought on by her being so near.

"It's not your fault," she murmurs into Alison's ear when she quiets down, reaching up to wipe her cheeks but keeping her head buried in the crook of Emily's neck. "You can't blame yourself for the actions of others."

"But if I'd - "

"You can't torture yourself," she cuts Alison off, and she thinks of the few patients that she's lost and feels her throat grow tight – she tries not to dwell on them but sometimes their faces appear in her dreams at night, gone but never forgotten, and she remembers what her resident had told her, the day Emily had first watched someone die. "You did everything you could to save her. You can't blame yourself for it not being enough."

"I don't know how to stop."

"You'll get there, eventually." Alison shifts away slightly, but Emily still keeps an arm wrapped around her back, even though she knows she really  _shouldn't_  – in fact, she should stand up and say her goodbyes and go home, because Alison is intoxicating and the longer she stays the harder it is for Emily to walk away.

"I don't think I will – I have a hard time letting things go."

"You let me go." The words slip out without Emily even meaning to say them, and she curses herself (and the fact that she's been up for nearly twenty hours – sleep hadn't come easily to her last night, and she'd given up in the early hours of the morning, finding herself in the hospital gym instead trying to work of some steam) as soon as they slip past her lips, knowing she's made a mistake when Alison's eyes meet hers, expression unreadable.

"Did I?" It's phrased as a question but Emily doesn't know how to answer it. "Because I don't think I did." She shakes her head, makes a noise of derision in the back of her throat. "I tried. God, I tried. And I kept wondering if you were going to come back for me…" There it is again, that horrific, all-consuming feeling of guilt that she feels whenever Alison brings this particular part of their past up – the part where Emily had been a coward, running away from town (from her feelings) with her tail tucked between her legs. "But you never did, so I moved on, and what good did  _that_ do me?"

"I'm sorry." She wonders how different things would have been, if she'd stayed in Rosewood – but she can't even imagine it, because Rosewood was never meant for her. It had been home for a little while but it had stopped feeling like that the day she'd found that first note in her locker, and she'd felt like a weight had been lifted the day she'd driven past the town border for the last time.

She knows she would have resented Alison if she'd ended up staying for her. She wouldn't have meant to, and maybe it wouldn't have expressed itself as what it was, but it would have been there, under the surface, and eventually she would have burst from it, and maybe it would have ruined them. Because Rosewood was where Alison had belonged, back then, but Emily was destined for somewhere else.

"It's not your fault, it's mine. I clung on to him because no-one else… no-one else had ever wanted me like that. And I turned him into my whole life." She shakes her head, a note of disgust in her voice. "The reason I don't have friends is because I thought he'd be enough. I had some, when I was in college, but after I graduated… I was stupid, and now I'm alone."

"You're not alone," Emily says, gently. "You have me."

"No, I don't," Alison argues, shaking her head. "At least not once I leave this place and you stop pitying me because you think I'm lonely." Alison sounds so certain, so  _lost_ , and Emily almost laughs, because if she thinks that Emily's only here out of pity then she must be more oblivious than Emily had thought a person could ever be.

" _That's_ why you think I come down here? Pity?"

"Why else would you?" They're still so close, so close that Emily can see the different coloured swirls of blue in the blonde's eyes, and in their depths she sees the insecurity that Alison must have never quite gotten over, that people could only want to be around her for selfish reasons, and not just because of who she was.

"Maybe because I've missed you," Emily admits quietly, and she knows that as soon as she opens her mouth that she's going to regret it because it's like the floodgates have opened and there's no stopping the words now. "Maybe because it's been seven years since I last saw you and we have a lot to catch up on – because there's so much of your life that I've missed and I want to know each and every part of it that's shaped you into who you are today. Because who you are, Ali? You are… you're amazing, incredible, breath-taking, kind-hearted, selfless… you're everything I knew you always could be, and so, so much more. It's an honour to come in here every day and to spend time with you, to learn who you've become. It's the best part of my day. If it was only pity that brought me here, Ali, I wouldn't spend hours whittling the night away by talking to you. It's not obligation that brings me here, it's…  _want_. I want to see you, I want to talk to you, I want…"

She trails off, biting her tongue, because she'd been about to say 'I want  _you_ ' and that's not… that's definitely not something she's ready to say, or to have Alison hear, because she's already said too much, already revealed too much of her thoughts – she can see the tears that spring into Alison's eyes as she speaks, sees the gratitude that spreads across her face, mixed with awe.

"No-one's ever…" Alison trails off, shaking her head as if to clear it. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Well, it's the truth," Emily shrugs, like she says stuff like that all the time (she's never made a speech quite like that before in her life). "So don't go putting yourself down like that when I'm around, you hear me?" Alison nods, and Emily manages a small smile – she notices again how close they are and takes a shaky breath, starting to pull away, knowing she needs to get out of there before she does something stupid. "I should probably go and get some rest."

"Em, wait - " Alison grips her wrist as she turns to leave, her touch so warm that Emily swears there will be an imprint of her fingertips on Emily's skin when she releases her. "Thank you. For… for everything. It means more to me than words could ever say."

"I haven't done anything." She hasn't, not really – maybe she's given Alison a little extra attention than her other patients, but she hasn't exactly gone above and beyond.

"You have," Alison insists, her voice low and eyes bright. "You've… you've  _been_ here for me. You're the only person that has."

"I wasn't, for a long time." She hates that she keeps bringing up their past, but she can't help it – not when Alison is looking at her like she's her whole world. "I wasn't there for you when it mattered." She thinks of how Alison had ended up in prison because of her and shakes her head, because she doesn't deserve praise, not after the things she'd done. "I left you to rot in a jail cell, Ali, how can you… how can you even look me in the eye and not hate me?"

"I could never hate you." Alison holds her gaze, her voice unwavering. " _Never_. And yes, that hurt, more than I ever thought it could but I… I messed up, too. How can  _you_ look me in the eye after the way I treated you when we were younger? After the things I did?"

"That was different," Emily argues. "You were young. I was old enough to know better."

"Immaturity is not an excuse." Alison's gaze darkens, and Emily wonders how many times she's beaten herself up over this, over her past actions. "I was… I was  _awful_ to you. Just because I was so scared that I had feelings for you."

Emily's heart aches, as it had that night in Alison's room, so many years ago now, when the blonde had admitted that it wasn't just practice, that she'd returned Emily's feelings, because she remembers how she'd felt back then, so young and shy, naïve and in love for the first time; she remembers how she'd felt that day in the locker room, where Alison had taken her heart in the palm of her hand and crushed it into dust, and she wonders how different things could have been, if Alison could have accepted herself the way Emily had managed to when Maya had helped to coax her out of the closest instead of forcing her back inside it, as Alison had done.

But none of that matters to Emily, now, because – "I'm over it, now," she shrugs, hating the guilt and the self-hatred she can see swimming in Alison's eyes. "It's all in the past, right?"

"Not all of it," Alison whispers, so quietly that Emily thinks for a moment that she might have misheard her. But then the hand that had still been clamped so tightly around Emily's wrist is moving, brushing strands of her hair that have escaped from her ponytail behind her ear, her fingers trembling when they brush against Emily's cheek. "I don't think you'll ever be in the past, not to me. You'll always be there, in my mind, making me regret that I hadn't been just a little…" She leans closer, and Emily is frozen – she can feel Alison's breath against her lips, could count every single one of her eyelashes, if she wanted – unable to move an inch, and when Alison breathes her next word, their lips are so close that they brush together lightly when she speaks. "Braver."

The hand on her cheek slides around the back of Emily's neck, and her eyes flutter closed as Alison kisses her, just the barest caress at first, before the pressure increases, Alison's lips moving against hers with fervour and Emily feels desire spark along her skin wherever they touch, rushing through her veins and making her heart pound in her chest.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about this since seeing Alison again. She'd thought about whether her lips would be as soft as they had been when they were younger, if her mouth would taste the same on her tongue, if she'd still let out a tiny whimper if Emily let her teeth nip at her bottom lip.

And the reality, oh god, the reality is so much better than the dream, makes her feel so much more  _alive_ than any of her fantasies ever could. Alison is the sea, tumultuous and dangerous, deep and so very easy to drown in, and Emily thinks that nothing would be sweeter than diving into the crashing waves.

The hand that had been resting on Alison's lower back shifts to curl around her hip, fingers digging into the blonde's skin as she tugs her closer, but it will never be close enough. She'd always known that Alison was intoxicating, and now she thinks she might be an addict, will always be craving her next fix.

And they shouldn't be doing this. God, there a million reasons why they shouldn't be doing this, and as Alison's tongue presses into Emily's mouth and licks wickedly at the back of her teeth, every single one of them flash before her eyes, and it takes everything she has in her to pull away, her breathing heavy as she scrambles away from the blonde and to her feet.

"We can't do this." Her voice is shaky,  _she_ is shaky, doesn't know how she's even standing, feels off-balance just from the look on Alison's face, by her hooded eyes and flushed cheeks and glistening lips. "You're  _married_."

"Not for long." Alison makes it sound so  _reasonable_ , like it's perfectly okay that they're making out like this less than twenty-four hours after Alison had sent out those divorce papers.

"You're my patient." There's no way Alison can wheedle her way out of that one – Emily's just violated about a hundred different points in the code of conduct she'd signed when she'd gotten this job, and if anyone found out about what had just happened… god, she doesn't want to think about it, about how she's stupid she's been this whole time, and Alison makes her feel like a teenager all over again and it's… she hates it and thrives on it both at the same time.

"Not for long," Alison repeats, and she knows the blonde's saying it as an argument for what they've just done being okay, but instead it just sends a spike of pain through her chest and she's such an  _idiot_ , has fallen too hard too fast once again for the only woman to ever bring her to her knees.

"And then you're going back to Rosewood and I'll be staying here," Emily replies, her voice steadier than she expected it to sound because on the inside she is breaking – she'd been so naïve, trying to convince herself that what she was doing with Alison was harmless, when it was anything but. "So we can't do this.  _I_ can't do this. I can't go down this road again with you." She takes one last look at Alison's face before she shakes her head and starts to walk away, but the blonde's voice stops her once she's halfway through the door.

"What if I didn't? Go back to Rosewood. What if I stayed?" Emily's heart stops at the thought, a faint flicker of hope springing up in her chest before she quickly quashes it, because that's just ridiculous, that Alison would uproot her whole life just for her.

Maybe in another life. Maybe in another life, they could have been something, but Emily doesn't believe in fate and destiny, not the way Alison does, and she doesn't think that she and Alison are meant to have a happy ending.

They've both hurt each other one too many times for that.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she says quietly before she forces herself out of the door and doesn't look back.


	5. Chapter 5

“Alison.” Emily skids to a stop when she recognises the blonde on crutches that she’d almost run into in her haste to get the lab results clutched tightly in her hand to her resident in the room down the hall, blinking slowly as she takes in the sight of her. “You’re… you’re walking.”

“An imitation of it, at least.” Alison’s voice is cool, her knuckles, where they’re curled tightly around the handles of the crutches propping her upright, flashing white as her arms quake with the effort of holding her weight. “You’d have known sooner, if you weren’t so busy avoiding me.”

Emily flushes, guilt flashing through her – it’s been four days since she’d left Alison’s room after they’d kissed, and she’d never quite been able to bring herself to go back. She’d tried – she’d found herself outside of the blonde’s door more times than she could count, but she could never quite muster up the courage to push it open and walk inside.

She knows she’s a coward, that running away like she had once before, all those years ago, is stupid and childish and will only make things a hundred times worse, but she can’t… she can’t _help_ it. Alison makes her crazy, makes her head spin and her world feel like it’s tilting on its axis, whirling out of control, and ever since that night all she’s been able to think about is the feeling of Alison’s mouth moving against hers and she doesn’t trust herself not to do it again.

And she _can’t_ , because she doesn’t know if she can bear the pain that will befall her when Alison leaves. She remembers Alison’s words, called out to her when Emily had tried to leave – they replay over and over in her head at night when she’s trying desperately to sleep – and wonders if she’ll ever be able to stop wondering what their lives would be like if they were true, if Alison stayed here and never went home.

“I… I’ve just been busy,” she replies lamely, after a long pause – Alison scoffs and Emily knows that she doesn’t believe her for a second, because Emily had been busy the entire time Alison had been in this hospital but she’d never been too busy for _her_.

“Sure.” Alison’s voice is heavy with scepticism, her eyes flashing with hurt, and Emily’s heart clenches in her chest. She knows she hasn’t been fair to Alison (she hadn’t been back then and she sure as hell isn’t now, running away from her when she needs a friend more than perhaps she ever has before), hates that they’ve managed to get themselves into this situation but not seeing any way out of it.

“Fields!” Evans snaps from over Alison’s shoulder when she sticks her head out of the exam room she’d been in, her mouth a grim line, a frown of irritation crossing her face when she sees Emily standing in the hallway. “What the hell are you _doing_? I told you I needed those labs rushed – what part of that involves dawdling in the hallway?”

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammers to Alison, already moving away and towards her angry resident. “I… I’ll try and come by later.” Alison’s mouth twitches in a way that tells Emily she doesn’t believe that for a second, but she thinks that she’s avoiding Alison for long enough.

If she’s up and walking then that means that she’ll be discharged sooner rather than later, and the little time that they’ve spent together will come to an end, and Emily doesn’t want to waste the precious few hours they have left trying to hide.

She doesn’t get the opportunity to visit the blonde for a long time – the labs she hands Evans are _bad_ , their patient, a fourteen year old hit and run victim that had pulled through the initial few surgeries he’d had to repair his extensive internal injuries, going into organ failure. She spends six hours in the OR at Evans’ side as they tried to save him, to no avail, and has to stand at her superior’s side as they tell his parents that they’d let their son slip away.

The sound of his mother’s anguished wail as she’d sagged against her husband, all of the fight going out of her, haunts Emily as Evans tells her to go home and get some rest, but instead she finds herself standing in the bathroom down the hall with her hands curled around the cool porcelain of the sink, trying to will away the tears that threaten to spring into her eyes.

It’s day like this when she wonders why she does this job. She thinks of the look in that woman’s eyes as she’d realised her son was gone, the accusation that swam in their depths, that she’d trusted Emily and Evans with his life but they hadn’t been enough to save them.

It’s been three months since she last lost a patient, and never one so young, and it knocks the breath from her. She thinks of his body lying on the operating table as the heart monitor had flatlined and Evans had called the time of death, and she wonders what the point of life is, how people can believe that there’s a God out there looking down on them all when where she works the lives of innocent people are snatched away from them every single day.

On days like these she always finds herself calling her parents or her friends, needing them to know that she’s still there, that she still cares, because whenever she has to watch as the lives of a family is ruined it reminds her that life is short, and you never know when your last moment with someone may be.

But today she finds that there’s only one person she wants to see, only one person swimming in her mind, and she wipes away the few tears that had fallen from under her eyes before finding her feet taking the now-familiar path to Alison’s room.

It’s empty, when Emily gets there, and for one heart-stopping, paralyzing second she wonders if she’s too late, if Alison has already been discharged and has left without saying goodbye (Emily wouldn’t blame her if she did), but she sees the evidence of the blonde’s stay still lying around – the books and magazines, the card and flowers her students had sent her still standing proud on the bedside table – and relaxes, perching on the edge of the windowsill like she had the other night and staring out at the world below her.

Every time she blinks she sees the boy’s – Aiden’s – face, and her heart aches. She looks at the people milling on the sidewalk outside and wonders if any of them have any idea how finite life is, how a person could go from being fine one moment to dying the next.

She jumps in surprise when she hears the door behind her open, too lost in thought, and doesn’t have enough time to school her expression into something neutral as she turns – Alison takes one look at her face and frowns, making her way on her crutches towards Emily unsteadily, frown of concentration on her face, her movements unsteady and awkward, still unused to not being able to put any weight on her leg.

“What’s wrong?” There’s such concern on Alison’s face as their eyes meet, and Emily knows she doesn’t deserve it, not from this woman who she’s already hurt so much and still can’t seem to stop, and she wonders how Alison can look at her like this, after all the things she’s done, all the pain she’s caused.

“I… I lost a patient today.” She glances down at her hands, that hadn’t been enough, and wonders how many other things she will ruin in her lifetime. “He was just a kid.”

“Oh, Em.” Sympathy rolls off of Alison in waves as she manoeuvres herself so that she’s sat beside Emily on the windowsill, resting her crutches on the wall beside them, sitting so close that their shoulders touch. “I’m so sorry.”

Emily doesn’t say anything for a few long moments, taking comfort in Alison’s closeness, and the blonde seems to understand, doesn’t say a word and only sits quietly beside her. Emily listens to the sound of her breathing, allowing it to ground her.

“I’m sorry, Ali,” she says eventually, when she feels like she can breathe properly herself for the first time since she’d left that OR.

“For what?”

“Everything.” Emily closes her eyes and shakes her head. “For running away like I did seven years ago and putting you through that. And for doing exactly the same thing four days ago.” Alison is quiet for a long moment, and Emily opens her eyes, turns her head to see Alison looking down at her hands, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Emily frowns, confused, and waits for Alison to clarify. “For leaving Rosewood and not looking back. Hell, I would’ve done the same if I could’ve. Sometimes I wish I had anyway.”

“Where would you have gone?”

“I was accepted into Stanford.” Alison still doesn’t look at her as she speaks, even when Emily lets out a quiet gasp, because how different might things have been, if they’d found themselves not only in the same state, but at the same college? “Charlotte told me I should go, that I shouldn’t stay behind just for her.” There’s a sad little smile on Alison’s face, a faraway look in her eyes. “Told me that I should go and try to win you back. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave her. I couldn’t leave her for the chance at something with you. Not when I was so convinced that you left the way you did to get away from me.”

“You weren’t wrong,” Emily admits, quietly. “But it wasn’t because I didn’t want you. It was because I didn’t know how to stop.”

“Did you ever learn?”

“No,” she breathes, and she watches the way Alison’s mouth twists into a bitter little smile before she lifts her head, their eyes finally meeting, and Alison wonders what she sees in her own. Whether she can see all the regret and the hurt and the guilt, much more than she’ll ever be able to put into words.

“God, we’re messed up, aren’t we?” There’s little amusement in Alison’s voice, her bitterness seeping into her tone, her eyes haunted. “Seven years and neither one of us ever quite managed to move on.”

“You did.” The wedding ring might not be on her finger, removed when she’d been admitted, but there’s still a patch of paler skin on the fourth finger of Alison’s left hand.

“If I really, truly had, Emily, don’t you think that it’d be my husband sat at my side instead of you?” Emily has no answer to that.

“Do you wish he were here instead of me?” She can’t help but ask, after several moments of strained silence, wants to know if Alison regrets anything that’s happened between them over the past two weeks.

“No,” comes the quiet reply, Alison’s eyes dark. “It would be easier. God, it would be so much easier, but I… I’ve felt more in the past two weeks with you, felt more alive when you kissed me than I ever did with him.” Emily’s heart beats fast in her chest at the revelation, her palms, curled up in her lap, sweating as her fingers tremble. “Why’ve you been avoiding me, Em? If you still have feelings for me, why… why did you run?”

“Because you’re my patient, and I could lose my job if anyone ever finds out we kissed the other night.” While it’s the truth, it’s not the whole truth – it’s an excuse, more than anything, a reason to keep her away, before she falls any further than she already has.

“But you do… you do want me?” Alison’s voice cracks, a shred of insecurity showing in both her tone and shining in her eyes, and Emily sucks in a breath at the sight of it, because after all this time, how could Alison ever doubt the way Emily felt about her?

“God, Ali, of course I do. More than anything else I’ve ever wanted in my entire life.” She lets out a shaky breath, and when she turns her head Alison is so close that if she leaned forward another inch their lips would touch, and it makes her heart pound. “But in-case you haven’t noticed, I’m a coward when it comes to admitting how I feel.” Alison’s lips twitch into a small smile that Emily isn’t quite able to return. “I ran away all those years ago because I was scared, and I ran the other night because I… I’m in love with you.” It’s the first time she’s ever said that aloud to Alison’s face (the first time she’s said those three words since she was in Rosewood, when she’d been with Paige), and she hears Alison suck in a sharp breath and can’t bear to look at her, turns back to stare out of the window, instead.

“I’m in love with you and I know that it’s going to kill me when you leave,” she continues, her voice quiet. “And don’t say that you won’t, because you… you have a whole life in Rosewood and you can’t leave that for me. Not now, not like this. Not so suddenly and without thinking it through. Because if you stayed and you ended up hating me for it, I… I couldn’t bear it.”

“So where does that leave us?” Emily catches sight of Alison’s reflection in the window, sees the unmistakable shimmer of tears in her eyes and wants more than anything to turn around and comfort her, wrap her arms around her and press a kiss against her lips but she can’t because if she starts she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to stop.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly, and she wonders if she’ll finally stop feeling like her world is off-kilter when Alison leaves the hospital, or if she’s been irrevocably changed by these past couple of weeks. “But right now… the timing isn’t right.”

“What if it never is?” Alison’s voice is small, and Emily’s heart breaks at the sound of it.

“Then maybe we’re just not meant to be.” It sounds like a lie even as the words pass her lips, because how can they be anything but? How can it be that after so much time, they’d found their way back to one another and for it to mean _nothing_?

“You really believe that?” Emily takes a deep breath and turns back to face the blonde, holding her gaze.

“No,” she admits quietly. “But I have to believe that there’s a reason why we’ve never been together.”

“Thought you didn’t believe in fate.”

“I don’t.” She thinks that maybe her views on that might have changed, a little, since she and Alison had reconnected, but Alison doesn’t need to know that. “But I believe in love. And what I felt for you, what I _feel_ for you,” she shakes her head and wonders if her heart will ever have room for another soul for as long as Alison consumes her. “That’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing and I don’t… there has to be a _reason_. A reason why it’s never been the right time, because if there’s not… then I don’t know what the point is. Of anything.”

x-x-x

Alison is discharged two days later.

Emily helps her pack away her things, carries her bag as Alison makes her way to the hospital exit on her crutches, and she waits on the curb for her cab to arrive to take her to the airport with a heavy heart, her throat tight with words left unsaid.

They’d spent the last two days snatching as much time as they could together, aware of the looming deadline, of the fact that soon they’d be states apart with little idea of the next time they’d be able to see one another.

Emily had caught Alison’s lips in a desperate kiss before they’d left her room, knowing she’d regret it as soon as she let the blonde go but unable to keep her distance, and she thinks she’ll be replaying the way Alison’s mouth had moved against hers, the echo of Alison’s moan as their tongues had touched, the feeling of silky blonde hair beneath her fingertips as she’d cupped the back of Alison’s head to keep her close, for a long while after she’s gone.

They’ve barely said a word since, and Emily doesn’t know _what_ to say, feels the seconds ticking by and when a cab screams to a stop in-front of them she forgets how to breathe, because she might have always known that soon Alison would be gone but that didn’t make the reality of it any _easier_.

Alison tugs her into a hug, arms wrapping around Emily’s neck and the brunette takes a moment to breathe her in, trying to memorize the heat and feel of her body, the scent of her shampoo and the perfume lingering on her skin, and it’s over all too soon, Alison leaning back and Emily sees, in the brief moment that their eyes meet, that she’s blinking away tears.

“This isn’t a goodbye,” Alison says quietly, arms sliding to grip Emily’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “We’ll find our way back to one another.” Emily desperately hopes that it’s true but doesn’t dare allow herself to believe it (but she remembers the way Alison’s fingers had curled around her wedding ring when it had been handed back to her, a look of distaste on her face before she’d pushed it deep inside of her pocket, and thinks that maybe there could be hope, after all).

“Take care of yourself.” She hates the thought of Alison going back to Rosewood and having to fend for herself, thinks of her alone and struggling with menial tasks because it would be weeks before she’d be able to walk without the aid of crutches, but she knows that the blonde is a fighter, a survivor no matter the odds, knows that she’s going to be okay.

“You too. Don’t work too hard.” Emily manages a smile despite the aching feeling in her chest, like someone has a hold of her heart and is gripping it, hard.

“No promises.” Emily knows that she needs to let Alison go, that she needs to tear her hands away from the warm skin of Alison’s waist and step back, let the blonde go back to the life she’d left behind (let herself get back to _her_ life, try to feel like she’s in-control of it again), but she’s frozen, doesn’t know if she can bring herself to move.

And then the cabbie, impatient, clears his throat and the spell is broken, Emily nodding to herself before taking a deep breath, dropping her hold on the blonde’s hips and pulling the door of the cab open, helping her inside and pressing her bag into her hands.

Alison’s promise to keep in touch rings in Emily’s ears as she shuts the door and watches the cab pull away from the curb, watches Alison leave her, and she clenches her jaw and her fists, refuses to let a single tear fall as she takes deep breaths of cold air and wonders if she’ll ever be able to put her heart back together again.

x-x-x

In the following months, Emily throws herself into her work.

It’s easier, when she starts her residency – she’s busier than she’s ever been before but she adores it, thrives under the added responsibility and pressure instead of crumbling under it, as a couple of her fellow residents have started to.

She spends a lot of hours in the hospital, because it’s easier to be there than to go home to her empty apartment, to where it’s easier for thoughts of the blonde she’s trying so hard to push away to overwhelm her.

She talks to Alison a couple of times a week, but it’s always brief. It’s too painful for it to be anything more than that, an acute reminder of the distance that separates them, of the impossibilities that keep them apart, and sometimes Emily finds herself dreading the ring of her phone because whenever she hears Alison’s voice in her ear it takes her back as she remembers those few weeks of heaven, the only time she thinks she’s been really, truly happy for as long as she can remember, content in every aspect of her life, fulfilled in a way that she doesn’t ever feel, anymore – it’s always like there’s something missing, a constant ache, reminding her that Alison is gone and she’s alone.

It’s after a twenty-one hour shift that she’s called into the Chief of surgery’s office and ordered to take three days’ vacation because she’s logged too many hours, done too much overtime and they won’t let her look at another patient without a break of more than just a few hours, and Emily’s arguments that she’s fine and doesn’t need the rest fall on deaf ears and she’s forced to concede with a sigh, trudging back home with a pout on her mouth because what’s she supposed to do _now_?

She stops at the grocery store on the way, deciding that it’s probably about time she cooked something, because it’s been a while since she ate food that wasn’t either from a cafeteria or take-out, deciding that she can’t really go wrong with a stir-fry and buying the stuff she needs before heading back to her apartment.

She’s unused to having so much free time, and she toys with the idea of going to visit one of her friends – the flight to New York isn’t too long, and she thinks it might be nice, to get out of this city and to let herself get lost in another one, even if it was only for a little while. It’d be nice to see Hanna again – the blonde had informed Emily that she was coming to stay at Christmas this year, but the holidays were always busy for her and she doesn’t know how much she’ll actually be able to _see_ Hanna, whether she’s staying at her apartment or not.

She opens up her laptop as she’s eating (after successfully managing to cook without burning her place down), looking at flights and wincing when she sees the price of some of them (her salary is a little bigger, now that she’s a resident, but the pay rise hadn’t been _that_ good), but thinks it might be worth it, if Hanna’s actually _in_ New York right now.

She’s about to call her to ask when her phone rings, and when Emily sees the name on the screen her stomach flips and she wonders if this is a sign that maybe she should visit someone else instead, but she quickly shakes off the thought, because it would only be re-opening barely-healed wounds, and neither of them need that.

“Hey, Ali.” It’s been almost a week since they last talked, Emily working long shifts and doing more surgeries than usual, meaning that whenever she was off the clock it was often late into the night, long after Alison would have gone to bed in order to be up and ready for the school day. “How’s it going?”

 _“Good.”_ Emily hears the sound of wind whistling in the background and frowns, glancing at the clock – it’s only nine, but Alison’s usually home by six and had confessed once that once she was settled in for the night she rarely left again, and why would she be calling Emily when she was out and about anyway? _“How about you? Work still insane?”_

“Not for the next couple of days,” Emily sighs, tilting her head against the back of the couch and closing her eyes. “I got sent home and told to take some time off.”

 _“I told you that you shouldn’t be working so much,”_ Alison points out, and Emily rolls her eyes (even though she’d thought that the blonde’s concern was nothing short of adorable). The background noise on Alison’s end dies down as Emily hears the sound of a door opening and closing, the blonde muttering a quiet thanks to someone on her end of the line.

“Where _are_ you?” She can’t help but ask, but Alison doesn’t answer her.

_“So, what are you planning to do with your new-found freedom?”_

“I was thinking about going to New York,” she says, and then wonders if maybe she shouldn’t have said that at all, if Alison will wonder why she didn’t want to visit her, instead. “But I don’t know. How’s the leg?”

 _“Why don’t you see for yourself?”_ Emily blinks in surprise at the response, because Alison’s voice is teasing, a world away from the careful tone they’d been using around one another lately, and she bites at her bottom lip before she replies.

“Ali…”

 _“Okay, that came out wrong,”_ Alison interrupts before Emily can finish. _“I… well, I had a whole plan but fuck it, just… open your door.”_

“What?”

 _“You are at home, right?”_ Emily’s head whips around when she hears both the sound of Alison’s voice in her ear and the echo of it from just outside of her apartment, her heart beating frantically loudly in her chest, her breathing turning shallow. _“Em?”_

She’s up the next second, phone still clutched tightly in her hand, bolting over to the door and when she wrenches it open and is met with the sight of blonde hair and blue eyes she can only stand and stare, too astonished to do anything more.

“What… what are you _doing_ here?” She manages after a moment of gaping, clicking her jaw shut from where it had fallen open, taking in the sight of Alison – sans crutches – and faltering at the almost shy look on her face.

“I thought it through,” is all she says at first, and Emily can only stare at her in confusion before she remembers their conversation that day in Alison’s hospital room, her breath catching in her throat. “I thought it through and there’s… there’s nothing in Rosewood for me anymore, Em. I stayed for my sister out of a sense of… obligation, even though there was a part of me that wanted to leave. When she was gone, I stayed for him but that’s over now.” Emily notes the lack of a ring, the paler patch of skin from where it had been worn already fading away.

“My whole life… ever since I came back to Rosewood after I disappeared, I’ve never done anything for _me_. I was so desperate to make up for my past mistakes that I never… I was never selfish. I always put other people first – Jason, Charlotte, David – and I didn’t let myself think about what _I_ wanted. I didn’t let myself wonder what it would’ve been like if I’d chased after you when we were eighteen instead of watching you leave me. But now, I… I want _you_. It’s always been you, Em, and I’m tired of trying to hide that, or forget about that, because you’re the only thing that’s ever made sense to me and I can’t stand the thought of going another day without telling you that I’m in love with you.”

Emily is too stunned – both by Alison’s sudden reappearance and by her words – that it takes a long moment for them to sink in, but when they do she reaches for Alison and tugs her inside her apartment, wraps her arms around the blonde’s waist and kisses her the way she’s always wanted to, deeply and desperately and longingly, pressing her back against the wall beside the front door and only pulling away when they’re both breathless.

“This is impossible,” she breathes when they pull apart, resting her forehead against Alison’s, the blonde’s breath puffing against her lips, her hands burning the skin at the back of Emily’s neck, where they rest. “You’re really here?” Emily’s half-convinced that she’s fallen asleep somewhere in the hospital and this is all some kind of elaborate dream.

“I’m really here,” Alison murmurs in reply, tilting her head to brush their lips together briefly. “And I’m not going anywhere, not if you don’t want me to.”

“But you… you have a life in Rosewood, you can’t just…” Her eyes flicker open as she allows her to remember all the reasons why they’d stayed apart.

“I only went back there because I knew if I stayed you’d think I’d been too rash but the moment I saw you again, Em… that was it, for me. And when you kissed me, when you told me you loved me… I wasn’t walking away from you again. I _can’t_. My life in Rosewood is a sham, the only thing I’m leaving behind is my job and it’s not like there aren’t teaching opportunities elsewhere.”

“You’d really move halfway across the country for me?”

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for you.” Alison’s eyes shine with honesty, raw emotion colouring her voice, and Emily grips tightly at her hips, trying to assure herself that this is real, that Alison is really here.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” It hurts to say, but she has to get the words out, has to know that Alison won’t regret this, won’t resent her if things go south (and Emily thinks that there’s the opportunity for that – they’re both still trying to get to know one another again, after all, don’t know if they’re even compatible in a relationship and hell, Emily’s never even really _had_ a real relationship before but Alison’s the only person to ever make her want to try).

“Then it doesn’t work out,” Alison says quietly, thumb rubbing distracting circles at Emily’s neck. “But I think it will.”

Alison tugs her into another kiss, then, and maybe Emily does believe in fate, after all, because what are the odds off the blonde visiting when she _just_ so happens to have her first vacation in almost fifteen months?

Maybe her good karma is finally raining down on her, in one fell swoop.

And she knows that their situation isn’t perfect, that they still have a _lot_ to talk about and a lot of things to figure out, but as Alison arches off the wall and begins to push Emily backwards (she doesn’t know if they blonde’s trying to steer them towards the couch or her bedroom but either way, she’s _not_ complaining and she’s grateful that the blonde’s back on her feet because Alison in control like this is hot as _hell_ ), Emily decides that that’s something to worry about at another time, when Alison’s tongue isn’t doing things that make her wonder what it would feel like in _other_ places, because they have the whole weekend to themselves (and maybe a whole lifetime to talk things through), and she allows herself to think, as Alison shoves her onto her bed and curls her hands around the hem of her own shirt, tugging it over her head, that maybe they can have their happily ever after, after all.

It might be s even years late, but still – better late than never, right?


End file.
